


Off the Beaten Path: Backstory

by VenomQuill



Series: Off the Beaten Path [1]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Achievements and bios, But not toward Henry, Charles is a smol bean, Choose Your Own Adventure, Gen, Grooming, I drew the pictures myself so I apologize for the quality, I swear it's not all bad, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Violence, Prosthetics, Selectively Mute Henry Stickmin, Text based fangame included, They go out for ice-cream at one point and that's nice, Toppat Clan Adopted Henry Stickmin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 51,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: Henry Stickmin turned eleven years old not even two months ago! His final escape from Red Mesa Orphanage happened months before. On the streets, the constant threat of his old headmistress and a ring of extortionist teens threaten the only thing he has left: his freedom. That is, until he stumbles across two elites in something called a crime organization. They have a fancy name and everything: the Toppat Clan!Will this be a turning point in the young thief's life, or will Fate's cruel talons drag him deeper into a struggle of his own creation?Backstory Title Card!
Series: Off the Beaten Path [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151174
Comments: 75
Kudos: 72





	1. Caught

**Author's Note:**

> ["Off the Beaten Path"](https://sta.sh/020quqorephk) Title Card!

[Henry](https://sta.sh/0h32u1cbxod) watched, still and focused, body hidden in the shadow of the alley, as a shiny red car pulled into a parking space on the curb. Two doors opened and out came two men. They wore suits, with the [driver](https://sta.sh/040pcs3s4fk) having ruffles in the chest and neck and the passenger having no buttons in his suit. They wore hats, the [second man](https://sta.sh/0t7pqhk230s) with a wide-brimmed hat that covered his fierce ginger hair and two-toned eyes while the driver’s was dark gray with a thinner brim, doing nothing to hide his honey brown eyes or curled chocolate mustache.

Henry’s baby blue eyes started to go back to the car when something shiny and gold caught his attention. The driver took off a golden chain necklace. At the end was a golden dollar sign half the size of the man’s head with blue gems embedded in its face. Henry’s eyes grew wide as moons. Any notion of searching the pretty red car was gone as he stared at the new object of his life. He needed it. He _needed_ that shiny gold necklace he wore. But the man had taken it off and set it inside of his car as well as his hat. The second man was a hair slower about putting away his hat.

Henry scurried behind the closest car–a tan beetle that required him to duck low to utilize as a hiding spot. He watched as the duo made their way into a spiffy building proudly proclaiming something-something Children’s Home. He couldn’t really see the first words from around their car, but he couldn’t care less. It wasn’t Red Mesa Orphanage, so it didn’t matter.

The doors shut behind the duo.

The eleven-year-old waited for a heartbeat or two before making his way to the shiny red car. He peered through the windows. The hats were there, but the necklace wasn’t immediately known. He started to open the door but hesitated. Car alarm. There could be a car alarm. So, he needed to be quick. In the back of his mind, he knew he needed something else. His original goal was still there, but he couldn’t concentrate. Not until he had that necklace. Ooooh, but he needed… what was it… oh, yeah, he needed a tablet. He might not find it here, but he had to try.

After Henry searched through the windows as thoroughly as he could, he approached the passenger side door, which was the farthest from the orphanage entrance. When he tried to open the door, a dry _click_ came in response and the handle barely responded to his tugging. So, he did what every other normal eleven-year-old would do and took a pair of lockpicks from his pants pocket. He didn’t wear anything in his thin jacket pockets–inside or out. Knowing how easily someone could steal something right out from under one’s nose–pockets, technically–made him paranoid. Unfortunately, the easing of that paranoia came with the stifling heat from the jacket and the hot desert sun.

Henry managed to open the car door.

An alarm screamed as the car’s door was pulled open.

Henry bristled and dove into the car. Under the gray hat was the deceivingly heavy necklace, which he threw on before the gray hat had a chance to fall back into the seat. A tablet settled against the side of the cupholder. He wormed back out, tripping over himself as he leaped from the passenger seat and fell flat on his face. He barely registered the long-brim hat on his head pressing down on his black hair, curly and hopelessly matted, as he bolted from the open car. The building’s door opened just as he got to his feet. The alarm stopped. He looked back in time to see the curled mustache one look into the front seat and let out an inhuman screech.

Henry dove into the alley in which he originated, hopped onto his rust-spotted bike, and zoomed off, one hand on the brim of his new hat, the tablet tucked under his arm, the necklace weighing down his neck. He couldn’t help the unsteady cackle that bubbled up from inside of him in response to the adrenaline in his veins and the euphoria of a successful escape. The two had gotten to the mouth of the alley two seconds too late as he turned a corner and rushed away. A few more turns and quite a bit of distance later, Henry slowed his bike and set a foot on the ground to steady himself. He let out another breathless laugh and looked over his new possession. It shone in the light. The golden face was smooth, broken only by the dazzling gems reflecting the color of his own baby blue eyes. He held out the tablet and looked it over. It had a cover with magnets along its rim so it could snap shut. There wasn’t a hinge, but something like the leather binding of a book, only it was smooth and soft.

Henry stuck the golden chain necklace under his jacket and set the bike against the dingy wall.

“Dog!” a young, masculine voice yelled, followed by a kissy-whistle.

Henry, his smile gone, hopped a fence and walked across an unkempt yard, tablet under his arm. Three boys were on the sidewalk, all three of them well dressed in new shiny clothes and shoes with lights in the heels. Henry didn’t look at their shoes, though. He’d made that mistake once before.

“Mason,” said the [brunette](https://sta.sh/0ok7ikre6ej) at the young teen’s left.

[Mason](https://sta.sh/01l954eggurq) turned to the yard and stopped as he spotted Henry. “Hey, Dog! What’d you fetch for me?”

As Mason approached, Henry stopped and showed off the tablet. Before Mason could take it, Henry pulled it back and hid it under his arm again.

The blonde hummed. “Okay. Well, I can’t give you a price if I don’t see it.”

Henry shook his head. He’d made that mistake _twice_ before.

Mason shrugged. “Fair. Okay, so, it works, right?”

Henry pulled out the tablet and flipped open the cover. The light turned on when he pressed it, showing a plain blue background with a few numbers on it.

Jerry gasped. “That’s one of the big tablets, right? The new ones?” Jerry looked to the [third one](https://sta.sh/018oyc7atc7h), who cooed.

Mason hissed at him and Jerry lost the bright look in his eyes.

Henry could barely put down his excitement. A new tablet? That was worth way more, then!

Mason sighed and stood up straight. Henry shut off the tablet. “Alright. I’ll give you forty dollars for it. How about that?”

Henry thought for a moment. Well, forty dollars _was_ a lot. Buuuuut Mason had given him forty dollars for a watch. The tablet was bigger than the watch and it probably did more than show the time. So, Henry shook his head.

Mason shot a glare at Jerry again and then said, “Alright, sixty. And some peanut butter and apple slices.”

Jerry whined, “Awww! I was gonna eat those!”

Henry nodded enthusiastically. Apple slices and peanut butter made the best lunch. Right next to sandwiches, which Henry could get plenty of with sixty dollars.

Mason pulled out a few bills and tossed them at Henry, who managed to catch the crumpled currency with one hand and stuff it into his pocket. He looked up in time for Mason to toss him a bag of apple slices with a little container of peanut butter inside. Henry handed over the tablet.

Mason looked over the tablet and said, “Now, I want to get my girlfriend something nice. She likes the color red. So, go fetch a red ring. Doesn’t matter what it is. Red band, red jewels, red inscription, whatever. Just as long as it’s red. I’ll give you a bonus if there are red gems in it, though. Maybe some yellow. And no names, don’t want some random woman’s wedding ring. Got it?”

Henry nodded.

“Good. See you later, Dog.” As they walked off, Henry heard Mason say, “Now, Jerry, what did I tell you about interjecting like that?”

Henry climbed over the fence and found his bike. Now, he had apple slices, but they would be much better with a sandwich and some juice. So, Henry made his way back down toward a street that would lead to Sandwich City. He dropped off his bike out of sight and walked with the thin crowd across the street. The hat kept the sun out of his eyes and the necklace still weighed him down. How did that man hold this thing? Well, he was older and stronger, so he was probably used to it.

The line wasn’t too long in the sandwich shop. One of the [workers](https://sta.sh/017s2cnuuh6g) gave him a weird look, but the [cashier](https://sta.sh/0po1t33pzf5) just waved him off with a “Kid’s parents give him an allowance or something.” Now Henry got a big ham and cheese and mayo and lettuce sandwich with a big drink. He liked having money. It made it easier to get a nice meal. Though he could always start begging and someone would probably get him a sandwich. But that would take too long, and they might even run him off or call the police.

Henry took out his apple slices and sat down in the far corner with his sandwich and drink. Soda didn’t mix well with apples, so he ate the apples first and then the sandwich. He glanced out the window on occasion as he ate. He was way far away from the orphanage, and thus the two men. They’d never find him in the crowd. Though, his new hat would probably make him easier to see. He didn’t even remember grabbing the hat, but he was glad he did.

He got a refill of his drink after lunch and walked outside. He should probably start looking for that ring soon. Mason would want it in a few days. Now with _sixty_ dollars, Henry would last a while longer. But he still couldn’t afford to skip on him. Mason asked him to get something. He couldn’t just say _no_ to him. He may as well be _asking_ to get thrown back into the orphanage with Mrs. Bloodworth. He’d rather get paid nothing after a long fight for the dumb ring then for Mason to rat him out.

Henry finished his ice-cold drink as he wandered down the street. He tossed it in a garbage can left out. Now, Henry focused on the people–more specifically, what they wore. It was mostly women who had rings. Still, most of these rings were purple or gray or blue or pink, maybe some yellow or orange. Where was the red? Oh! There was the red!

Henry didn’t stop his walking but did concentrate on [a lady](https://sta.sh/0b54aa76ee8) standing on the street corner, waiting for the light to turn red to allow her to cross. Henry glanced behind him. A large store was behind him, huddled behind a vast parking lot. He turned back to the lady and reached out to pat her arm. He didn’t quite get there before a bad feeling twisted in his stomach and the back of his neck tingled. Was someone watching him…? He pulled back his hand and glanced around. He had to pull his hat back up a little to see clearly. A flash of cold bit his veins upon seeing the two men from the red car walking down the street. They kept their eyes forward and talked casually. The one with the curly mustache had on a hat while the ginger one with the longer, bushier mustache did not. Okay, so, maybe the hat was a bad idea.

Henry strolled into the parking lot, hands held behind his back and struggling to keep a steady pace. He didn’t look behind himself, of course. Looking back would be suspicious. Then again, the big hat was also suspicious. He pulled it back again as the brim fell over his eyes. It was nice to keep the sun off, but maybe he could’ve done with one that had a smaller body or hatband or whatever it was called.

He couldn’t help it. He threw a glance back, only to see the two men were no longer on the sidewalk but rather in the parking lot, their strides much longer than Henry’s. Henry bolted, running for the safety of the alleyway that would lead to his bike. He crossed a short split in the parking lot allowing for a road. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite take the time to look before running across. A loud screech and blaring horn met his attempt to cross and he froze, looking back at the loud noise as a rather large truck bore down on him. He felt something grab the back of his jacket and yank him back, tearing him off the ground and pulling him free of the truck’s path as the vehicle barreled past.

The hat was promptly snatched off his head and he winced at the sudden invasion of sunlight. The curly mustache one yelled something obscene to the [driver](https://sta.sh/01sec1fwzfys), who had yet to stop or even slow down. He walked around his friend to meet Henry, hands behind his back and narrowed eyes on the young thief. Henry could run. He could shed his jacket and bolt. However, any thought to running was blocked from his mind by the events and there was nothing else in this world he wanted more than to just be held.

“And _this_ is mine,” said the curled mustache one, taking away Henry’s new necklace by the gold chain around his neck. Henry turned around and grabbed for it, but he was stopped by the ginger one, who held him. The curled mustache one donned his jewelry and fixed his hat. “Now,” puffed the man, his British accent quite pronounced. “Where is our tablet?”

Oh, right. He’d stolen from these men. Henry shrunk back into himself and looked away.

“Kid, where is it?” His tone was accusatory, knowing.

Henry let out a quiet whimper.

There was a short sigh, and the curled mustache one’s voice became unnaturally sweet. “We want our tablet back, now. Where did you put it?”

Henry swallowed and raised his hands in sign language, “ _I don’t have it._ ”

“What do you mean you _don’t have it?_ ” The sweetness was gone. “We know you took it.”

Although he tried to sign an answer, one he hoped was correct, he instead broke down into tears and curled up into himself.

“Jesus, Reg,” muttered the one holding Henry.

“Just–set him down. Hey, er, kid?”

Henry felt solid ground beneath his feet. He opened his tear-blurred eyes to find that he was indeed standing on cement, though he still felt the hand on the back of his jacket.

The curled mustache one, Reg maybe, cleared his throat. Henry reluctantly looked up at him. “What is your name?”

“ _H-E-N-R-Y_ ,” he signed with a barely stifled hiccup.

“Well, Henry, we’re not here to hurt you,” Reg stated. “We just want to know where you took our tablet.”

Henry dug out the fifty-something dollars he had on him and presented it to Reg.

Reg took the money. “Did you _sell_ it to someone?”

Henry nodded.

“Oh, for the love of–it could be anywhere by now. Well, hand over the rest of what you made for it and we’ll start searching.”

“ _That is all of it. Well, I bought a sandwich._ ”

“You sold our two-thousand-dollar tablet for _sixty dollars?_ ” the man wheezed.

“ _And some apple slices and peanut butter,_ ” Henry offered as if that would be a balm. “ _It was worth two thousand dollars?_ ” Man, he could buy _way more_ sandwiches with that.

“Oh my God,” the man breathed. “Who did you sell it to?”

Oh. Mason might not like it if Henry told them that. Mason didn’t want Henry to tell his own family, so he probably wouldn’t want Henry telling strangers. So, he went with his best answer. “ _I don’t know._ ”

The curled mustache one pinched the bridge of his nose. “We don’t have time for this. Look, we’ll let you go if you just tell us who you gave the tablet to.”

Henry shook his head. “ _I can’t._ ”

There was a short hum and the man’s voice evened out. Was… that the right thing to say? “Why not? Are you afraid of this person?”

Henry shook his head. “ _No, he’s not scary._ ” He thought for a moment and then shook his head again. Mason wasn’t scary. If Henry wanted to, he could get away from them. Jerry and Noah were kinda scary, on the other hand. The memory of when Henry tried taking Mason’s shoes came to mind. Jerry hadn’t been very soft with him. Come to think of it, the curled mustache guy’s friend probably wouldn’t be, either. But the ginger man was an adult. And Henry didn’t know them, and they didn’t know him. They weren’t the ladies, so they shouldn’t really hurt him. Right? Yeah, they saved Henry!

Reg prompted, “Then why not? Are they a friend?”

Henry shook his head again. “ _He’s not nice._ ”

“Where are your parents, anyway? What kind of parents do you have?”

Henry swallowed. “ _They’re not here._ ” The ginger one scoffed. What? Henry was telling the truth, technically!

“Well, whoever your parents are, they should be incredibly ashamed of themselves,” said the curled mustache one. “Messy hair, dirty clothes, and you didn’t wait for a second to wear Red’s hat. Running in front of a _truck!_ A good thief wouldn’t have made himself such an easy target. They must have taught you something if you could get into the car without breaking the window, which I must admit was clever for a kid and took some skill.”

Henry looked up at him. “ _Was… that okay?_ ”

“Almost,” admitted the man. “If you hadn’t tried to rob _us_ you almost definitely would have gotten away with it. But a thief shouldn’t steal from another thief, it’s stupid and dangerous and quite frankly very rude. Putting on Red’s hat made you quite the target, though you wore _my_ necklace under your jacket, so it wasn’t a complete mistake.”

“ _Sorry?_ ” He tipped his head a little. He thought for a moment and then asked, “ _You aren’t taking me to the police, are you?_ ”

“Of course not,” the man replied. “Now, you are a skilled young kid. What are you? Twelve? Fourteen?”

“ _Eleven._ ”

“Eleven?” echoed the man. “What is an eleven-year-old doing stealing alone?”

Henry shrugged.

“Look, kid,” said the curled mustache one. “I want my tablet back. You obviously don’t have anyone taking care of you. So, what is that person you gave the tablet to giving you? Or are they threatening to take something away? Do your parents know about any of this?”

Henry looked away again. He loosely signed, “ _He gave me money and some apple slices and peanut butter. But if I make him mad, he won’t ask me to get anything for him again._ ”

“And who is extorting an eleven-year-old?”

Henry thought for a moment. “ _Well… I think he’s sixteen. I know his friend, and his friend is sixteen._ ” Jerry hadn’t found a family like Noah did. Mason had always had a family.

The curled mustache one scoffed. “Another kid. Figures. Let me make you a deal. You tell us who this kid is, and we’ll teach you something about the things you can and can’t steal.”

Henry, nerves still too frayed to be seriously considering a deal, nodded.

So, fellow thieves were a no-go. It was impolite and disrespectful, both to the thief in question and Henry. In itself, “thief” wasn’t a _bad_ word, even if the media or authority depicted it as such. Now, a dishonorable petty criminal, perhaps. But those with honor and dignity like the Toppat Clan? Not at all. In fact, those of the Toppat Clan, who have sworn their lives to the furtherment and protection of the Clan, are a better and tighter-knit unit than the authority who believe they alone can create an orderly utopia in a world unfit for it.

Henry might not have understood all the words he said, but he liked them and could understand context clues. The Toppat Clan sounded _so nice_. A place where no one was shunned because they couldn’t talk, who didn’t scold them for being unable to resist their obsession with stealing.

“ _So, you said stealing from most thieves is wrong,_ ” Henry said, his words a little difficult to understand in the dying sunlight.

The curled mustache guy–Reginald, Henry had learned–waved off the question. “That is one you will understand once you are older. You’ll find out for yourself.”

Henry pouted. Adults loved saying that. Henry was smart. He could understand stuff! Why did adults always love saying things like that?

“Now, who was the boy to whom you sold the tablet?” Reginald prompted.

“ _Mason. He’s sixteen and goes to the school near Red Mesa Orphanage. His friends, J-E-R-R-Y and N-O-A-H, told him about me. He said that as long as I kept bringing him stuff, he wouldn’t tell Mrs. Bloodworth where I was. He would still pay me for stuff._ ”

“And I will chance a guess that you don’t know his last name?”

“ _No._ ”

“Hmm. Well, good enough, I suppose. Now, Red and I must be leaving. We _were_ at the orphanage, but your trick pulled us from it.”

A fear so sudden and sharp any thoughts that might have even considered being known to Henry ceased. Without consciously realizing it, he’d launched himself at the ginger one–Red, he was named–and wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around the man. Red stiffened in his grip and raised his hands out of the way but did nothing to the boy.

“Ah.” This was Reginald. “Well. Where did you say your parents were, Henry?”

Henry shook his head, eyes shut tight, the jacket of the man’s suit half-hiding him from the dusk.

“Kid.”

Henry peeked up at Red with one eye. Up this close, Henry could see his eyes with a little more detail; the left one being a baby blue and the right one a honey-brown.

“Do you have parents?”

Henry started. That… was a weird question. Reginald raised an eyebrow at his friend. Eventually, Henry slowly shook his head.

Reginald hummed. “Well. That thought never occurred to me. I had just assumed your parents were terrible people. Who was this _Mrs. Bloodworth_ you talked about, anyway?”

Henry loosely signed, “ _Headmistress._ ”

“Well!” Reginald’s voice suddenly gained a bit of strength. “That’s a wonderful idea! Yes, this will be _much_ easier than crawling through the bureaucracy at the orphanages and foster care systems we were to look through. I’m sure Chief Terrence would be happy to have a new child so quickly.”

Henry tipped his head. “ _Who?_ ”

“He’s our boss,” Reginald informed him. “He’s also my friend. He was the one who recruited me into the Toppats. He was with Chief Wilford when Red was recruited.”

Red nodded.

“Now! What do you think of becoming a Toppat, Henry?”

Henry blinked. Wh… what?

“You are looking to leave here, yes?” Reginald prompted. “Well, you already have some skills and will no doubt be incredible with age and learning. Henry, the Toppat Clan is a group of thieves, but we are a family. I would like to formally invite you into our group. As a Toppat, you must dedicate yourself to the betterment of the Clan, not necessarily _just_ yourself. But! There will be plenty of that, too.”

Henry thought for a long moment. He let go of Red to sign, “ _Will I get to stay with you?_ ”

“Yes, of course,” said Reginald. “I’m the deputy. I would be thoroughly surprised if we did not see each other often.”

Henry looked up at Red and then Reginald. Well, if he went with them, he’d be a Toppat. He’d get to be in a place where they didn’t dislike people for stealing stuff or being unable to talk–he’d heard someone call it _selective mutism_ –and he’d get a home and a family. Yeah. He could do that. He never heard of anyone with _two_ dads. He nodded.

“Very good! Now, we should be heading back,” said Reginald, walking off toward the sidewalk.

Henry hurried after them, signing, “ _Can I get my things?_ ”

Red asked, “Reg? The kid ’as some things.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. Where do you live?”

Henry pointed to the alleyway where his bike lay.

So, they grabbed his rust-spotted first. It leaned in the alleyway, hidden behind a dumpster. A few turns and a little time of movement later, they came upon a worn fence wrapped around a rickety old house where he met Mason every week. Rather than squeeze under the fence as he did normally, they went around the fence to the front, where they could cross the weed-choked yard. Henry waved them off when the adults tried to enter. Reginald took out his phone and launched into a call.

Henry carefully made his way up the stairs, many of the steps broken as those too much heavier than the underfed eleven-year-old boy attempted to tread on them. He needed to skirt past a few spots of shattered planks and splinter traps. His nest lay in the second floor of what was once a bedroom, where he’d set a few blankets. A couple of them–a pillow and the one on the bottom–were too ratty to be of any value. The one on top, thick and fuzzy if a little small, that covered a half-full threadbare backpack _was_ his, though. The Easter-themed baby blue blanket was a gift given to him by the nicest person in his life–an orphan boy just a few years older than he. If angels were real, James was _definitely_ one of them. Now, Henry remarked as he looked over his dusty home, it was time to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stealing from a crime lord is actually okay, who’d've thunk it?
> 
> Anyhow, Henry lives on his own being extorted and threatened by a pretend-gang of teens. His skills aren't that shabby for a young kid. And so his adventure as a thief begins. Mason is practicing to become his father by hiring orphans and runaways and then screwing them over as hard as he can to get the most profit. You know, like the people who make Christmas Ham by hiring illegals and then threatening to out them if they complain about their slave wages!
> 
> "Different Path, Different Story" was split in two but was technically supposed to be split in three. Kid Henry -> Adult Henry -> Ending. A three-parter with ~25 chapters each is easier to swallow. In addition, any potential ships involving Henry, Charles, or Ellie are easier to put in a story where they're not eleven or twelve.
> 
> Oh, btw, there are achievements and bios to collect~!


	2. Medic

Reginald’s and Red’s car was parked a few blocks away, no longer in front of the “children’s home” parking lot. Henry left the rust-spotted bike behind the dilapidated house, where he found it. This gave Henry free reign to hop into the back seat and buckle himself in. Reginald sat in the driver’s seat, waiting long enough for Red to rejoin them before moving.

They left the traffic behind and, far outside of the city, their car stopped on what might be a poorly used road in front of a scarlet, seed-shaped pod. Red didn’t try to hold Henry’s hand, just held it out as an offer. Henry took his wrist instead and made his way to the pod.

Reginald opened the door to the pod for them. He sat down in one of the seats and buckled himself in.

The pod blasted off. Henry yelped and slapped his hand over his mouth. He glanced around to see who’d noticed and of course both of them did.

Outside, the desert flew out from under them. The city fell behind, and clouds whisked by high, high above. He felt his stomach lurch upon seeing how very far below them the desert was. Still, he put down the prickling fear and nausea. Flying high in the air some distance away, was a giant red shape. The massive red aircraft hovered high above, four propellers branching off its sides keeping it aloft like a helicopter.

Reginald boasted, “That, Henry, is the airship. The biggest branch of the Toppat Clan, and the lead one in case the entire Clan needs to come together for whatever reason. Some of our senior members have been here for longer than we have been alive. Stay with us and provide for the Clan, and the Clan will provide for you.”

Henry glanced back at him and then forward at the airship again. The pod slowed and drifted down toward a hole in the large strip of cement flanking the runway. With a loud _click_ and a short hiss, the pod fell snugly into place and the door opened. Henry accepted Reginald’s help in leaving. He looked back at Red, who shut the door.

Standing in the hallway before them was another [man](https://sta.sh/01q7hwzld0qy);

this one in a suit like Reginald’s without the ruffles in the front or the jewelry. A hat black as the night with a slightly wider headband than crown fit snugly upon his slick black hair. “Well, hello!” the man hummed, his baby blue eyes glimmering in excitement. “You must be Henry!”

Henry stepped back so he was half-hidden by Reginald.

Reginald patted Henry’s shoulder, causing the boy to flinch. “Henry, this is Chief Terrence. He’s our boss, my friend.”

Henry blinked. Oh. Well… if he was anything like Reginald, then perhaps he wasn’t bad. People liked people similar to them, right? If Reginald trusted him, and Reginald was nice, then it was only logical that Chief Terrence would be, too, right? So, Henry pulled himself from his place and signed, “ _Hello. My name is H-E-N-R-Y._ ”

“Aw, it’s nice to meet you, Henry,” said Chief Terrence. “Now, I heard you’re going to be a Toppat. First, we should check in with the doctor and make sure you’re okay. Are you okay with that?”

Henry nodded. Doctors were nice.

“Oh, good. Now, Reginald, Red, I do need a few things first. Reginald, I will need you to check back in the Bridge and look at the autopilot, make sure it isn’t drifting again. I’ll take Henry to a quick trip to the doctor. Red, were you able to finish checking in with our larger patrols?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good!”

“Chief?” prompted Red when Chief Terrence stopped speaking.

“Hmm?”

“Weren’t _we_ going to help Henry?”

“Well… yes,” Chief Terrence admitted. “Yes, but at the moment, there are still a few things that need to be wrapped up. I’m sure by the time Henry’s done with his check-up, you’ll be able to join us again. It’ll be _fine._ I’m the Chief, remember? I didn’t get here through incompetency.”

Reginald looked back at Red. “Red, it’s fine. Chief Terrence always talks to the new recruits.”

“Heh! See? Reginald agrees with me. You’ll be done soon enough, I’m sure.” Chief Terrence hummed, “Now, we can meet back at the doctor’s office.”

Henry watched as the two who found him went their separate ways. He looked around the hallways as they walked. Though Chief Terrence attempted to take his hand, Henry instead held onto the man’s cuff, and the chief held onto his wrist.

“Now, our doctor is a very intelligent man,” Chief Terrence started. “But don’t be disappointed if he’s a little short with you. He’s always grumpy. Especially with me!”

Henry tipped his head. But Chief Terrence was nice. Why would anyone be mad at him?

“Heh. Not everyone can be loved by everyone else, Henry. Some people just don’t get along. But he is very smart about medical stuff. The Med Bay is pretty far from the Bridge, where I work, but it’s close to the Bay, where more of the in-ship accidents happen. Since you landed around the Bay we should be… yes! Over here.”

A large set of double-doors with a red plus sign over it settled on the left side of the hallway. Chief Terrence pushed open one of the doors with his free hand. A [woman](https://sta.sh/0c0pgxgm50k)

with a white hat with a red band around the headband stood at a rack of towels and containers. “Chief? And… who is that?”

“Henry,” Chief Terrence announced. “He’s our newest Clan member. I would like to get him checked over now while we have the time. May I speak with the doctor?”

“Ahhh… okay. I’ll be right back. Just go through to that space.” She gestured to the curtain separating them from a little medical station.

Henry watched as she left and looked up. “Who’s that?”

“There are a few nurses and paramedics on board,” Chief Terrence replied, leading him past the curtain and onto the medical bed. “When the medical system failed them, but they found a friend in us, we allowed them on board. Not every Toppat is a thief, after all.”

Into the space came another [Toppat](https://sta.sh/02dgoyyhotch)

with a white hat and a metal circle attached to the front by a band and a perpetually stern look on his face. His dark green eyes hid behind jade-tinted, squarish glasses. The doctor let out a sigh. “What did the cat drag in this time, Terrence?”

“He’s an eleven-year-old boy,” Chief Terrence chided, though no real irritation laced his words. “He’s been out on his own for a little while, and it’s a quiet time for us. Henry, how long have you been out on your own?”

Henry signed, “ _Six months._ ”

The doctor asked, “And you have medical records, Terrence?”

“Aaaaah, no,” Terrence answered with a shrug and a flippant wave of his hand. “We’ll get that later. We wanted to meet the little guy and see if he was going to be a Toppat first.”

The doctor rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, our newest _child-_ recruit with no knowledge of his medical history including vaccinations, or--and I’m guessing this–-his previous doctor or caretakers?”

“That would be correct!” Chief Terrence hummed with a cheerful smile.

“Whatever. What’s your name?” The doctor plucked a clipboard that hung on the wall behind the bed and picked up the pen attached to it.

“ _H-E-N-R-Y_.” Henry signed.

“Henry…?”

Henry answered, “ _S-T-I-C-K-M-I-N_.”

“Henry Stickmin. A middle name or no?”

“ _M-A-R-Y_.”

“Henry Mary Stickmin. Age?”

Henry was eleven years old, a boy, an almost life-long orphan, and he’d lived on the streets for six months. The last time he’d visited a doctor was last year when he sprained his ankle. He ate sandwiches and burgers at the local shops sometimes, but mostly ate crackers with condiments, whatever the school was serving, and sometimes candy or breakfast bars. He also had apple slices yesterday.

The doctor nodded and walked off. “I’ll be right back, Henry. Sit tight.”

Henry nodded, though he knew the doctor couldn’t see him. He looked to Chief Terrence.

Chief Terrence chuckled, “Yeah, he asks a lot of questions. Gets boring sometimes, especially since he’s not the chatty sort. You’d think a simple conversation wasn’t too hard, right? Heh. My friend was like that.”

Henry tipped his head. “ _Who?_ ”

“Sir Wilford IV,” Chief Terrence said. “He was the chief before me. He’d been my best friend for _decades_. We were as similar as apples and oranges, but he was an amazing friend and we got along well. A great leader, the best I’ve ever known. It’d be hard for anyone to fill his shoes. But I try my best!” The wistful, almost sad, faraway look was gone, and he looked at Henry with bright eyes and a brighter smile. “But I’m not alone! Reginald’s the best deputy a guy could ask for. Very smart, clever, not a good fighter but a sharp shot, and he’s a natural born leader. Oh, and Red’s a nice guy, too, don’t get me wrong. You know, he reminds me a little of Will. Strong, stubborn, loyal, willing to get things _done_. There’s a reason he’s not my deputy, but there’s also a reason he’s my third.”

Just then, the doctor walked in with a nurse who held a few medical supplies. The doctor gestured to a measuring stick attached to the wall next to a big black stick with what looked like a screen on it. “Now, first let’s see your height. This would be much easier with a medical history, of course.” He shot a look at Chief Terrence, who smiled apologetically. “Then we can get your weight.”

Henry stood by the measuring stick, his back to the device and standing up straight. The doctor pulled the little horizontal piece down until it was pressed down on his head, not enough to hurt but enough to push down his thick, matted, curly hair. “Five-three,” the doctor said, and the nurse scribbled something down. “Over here, Henry.” Henry moved so that he stood on the weight scale. He watched the doctor press a button and check the screen. He hummed, “Fifty-four pounds. That doesn’t surprise me. Sit down over here.”

Henry hopped onto the bed, sitting so that his legs dangled off the edge.

The doctor took out what looked like a really thick, really wide wrist band and wrapped it around his arm. “You are a very compliant child, aren’t you?”

Henry signed, “ _I’m supposed to be at the doctor’s office. Right?_ ”

“Don’t use this hand. Yes, definitely.” The wristband whirred and inflated.

“Ohh! A compliment!” Chief Terrence hummed. “You’re something special, huh? He never gives those.”

Henry smiled a little at that. The wristband beeped, the nurse transcribed what the doctor said, and the doctor removed the big wristband or whatever it was called. Henry signed, “ _Doctors and nurses are nice. They’re supposed to help._ ” Which was a good thing, considering everything else that tended to happen to him. The ladies at the orphanage didn’t care, and the other kids found it funny to push him around. But the doctors and nurses were always really nice.

The doctor, only half paying attention to Henry, now, stated, “Yes, you are special.”

“Doctor,” said the nurse, her voice quiet. “He said something nice about you. Right?”

Henry nodded, his smile gone.

“You’re supposed to be nice back.”

“I was telling the truth,” the doctor chided. “I haven’t met many kids like him. He’s a better patient than some of my adult patients, even. What’s wrong with that?”

“Your _tone_ is what was wrong with that.”

Henry looked between them. Should he take that as a compliment?

The doctor took out a long tube-like device with giant pinchers on one end and a round thing on the other. Something-scope? He stuck the end under the top of Henry’s collar to set it on his chest. Henry tensed but didn’t move. He knew he shouldn’t be tense, doctors were nice. Well, this one wasn’t _really_ nice, but maybe that’s because he didn’t know how? He did give Henry a compliment but was pretty sarcastic about it.

The nurse asked when the doctor pulled back the stethoscope and the nurse handed him the clipboard, “So, what are you doing after this, Henry?”

Henry signed, “ _I’m going with the chief and we’re meeting up with Red and R-E-G-I-N-A-L-D to eat dinner, I think?_ ” He sent a questioning glance at Chief Terrence.

“Yes, he’s going with me to dinner. We’ll meet up with Reginald and Red there, or here depending on how quickly everything goes.”

The doctor stated, “I’m not rushing for your convenience, Terrence.”

Chief Terrence pointed out, a little less cheery this time, “I’ve been the chief for two months now. You gave me my physical exam at the beginning of it.”

“And I’ve been here as a top doctor and surgeon for thirty years, doing everything from routine check-ups to emergency surgeries since I was recruited. You don’t scare me, Terrence. Especially since _you_ took over after Ch–-Sir Wilford IV instead of Reginald,” the doctor stated, narrowing his eyes at Terrence before turning to Henry and losing the look. Terrence returned the look.

Chief Terrence hissed, “Doctor, I’ve put up with a lot from you, but you’re taking this too far!”

The doctor raised his eyebrows. “Me? Taking things too far? You’re old enough to be Reginald’s father and I haven’t said a word about it. Now, you want to take this stupid pissing contest any further or do you want me to make sure this child doesn’t have scoliosis?”

After a long moment where neither man broke eye contact, Chief Terrence let out a sigh and smiled. “No, no, you continue. I don’t want to make Henry wait here any longer than necessary.”

The doctor sniffed and turned back to Henry. The irritated look he’d adopted was gone. “Now, Henry. You’ve been a very good patient so far. Just a few more tests and we can send you on your way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a normal check-up.
> 
> So, y'all know Burt Curtis? "Toppat Charles?" I present to you: Dr. Houston! "Toppat Dr. Vinschpinsilstien!" For spaces that need characters we don't have, I'll try and make any required characters as THSC-esc as possible. For example, Burt is pretty much the opposite of Charles, and so Dr. Houston is the opposite of Dr. Vinschpinsilstien. Dr. V seems to have a slightly rosier outlook (she literally has rose-tinted glasses) and will help Henry pretty much out of nowhere. Likewise, Dr. H has a pessimistic outlook (hence the jade-tinted glasses). Also, I tried sticking some references in both medical bios. Kinda excited to see if any of them will stick. ...heh


	3. Unexpected

Reginald and Red--side by side--entered the hospital. As Henry and Chief Terrence walked into the front waiting room portion, the Second and Third-in-Command were seen immediately. Henry waved as they approached.

Chief Terrence announced, “Well! Any luck?”

“Yes!” Reginald answered. “The airship is still on its original course, and Red straightened out the rest of the bigger heists set for tonight.”

“Very good,” Chief Terrence hummed. “You two make quite the team, don’t you? Well, Henry here is a little thin. So, how does everyone feel about a late dinner, hmm? Tomorrow we can go about the ship.”

“Tomorrow?” Reginald echoed as they left the Med Bay. “That’s fairly soon, especially since we should bring those medical records to the doctor.”

Chief Terrence shrugged. “Kids learn fast, and if pressed for time, we could always split up for a while. What do you think, kiddo?”

Henry nodded. “ _I’m okay._ ”

Reginald didn’t lose his concern. “If you think so, Chief.”

A few turns and doors as well as a set of stairs later, the hallway turned into a _massive_ room. The place was larger than the entire orphanage! Long tables bedecked with chairs crossed the cafeteria. Doors, some mechanical like the ones they went through and some without technology stamped into them littered the walls. A wide window sent auburn light into the already well-lit room. Henry could see _forever_ out into the clouds and the desert and the mountains that loomed far away.

He stopped gawking long enough to accept Reginald’s offer of an open door.

“Eh?” [A man](https://sta.sh/0qtoluq7wkp) in a stained apron with a black top hat looked up from the countertop he stood before. “Reginald? Red? Oh, Chief. Eh, who’s this?”

“This is Henry,” Chief Terrence said. “He is our newest recruit. We found him injured in Red Mesa, so it was quite the flight back.”

The chef made a noise of acknowledgment and understanding and gestured to one of the massive refrigerators at the end of the room. “Just take the extra in there.” With that, the black-hat-one walked further into the kitchen that was straight out of a movie.

Henry hadn’t seen so much food in his _life_ as they opened the door to the fridge and found at least a half dozen meals packed in translucent containers, and then more ingredients further in. They were mostly vegetables; carrots, lettuce, beans, broccoli, and a whole host of others he couldn’t even name all packaged and preserved and ready to be prepared.

Henry snapped out of his thoughts as they began to move again. A few microwaves were open. Although Reginald wrinkled his nose as he popped the containers into the microwaves, Henry couldn’t understand why. Microwaves were great! They made cold food warm. Warm food smelled nice and tasted nicer. Unless it was vegetables. Then they were still bad, maybe worse. As Reginald messed with the microwaves and checked on the food within, Red found himself in another refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water. A wine rack stood nearby. Henry knew what this was as the Headmistress and the other women would empty a couple of them on the holidays or sift through one every weekend. Some of the boys tried sneaking some, but always got caught and very severely punished for it.

Henry didn’t hesitate to hold his own food and the glass of apple juice Chief Terrence gave him. They sat close to one of the windows, Chief Terrence and Reginald sitting across from Red and Henry. Henry watched as the they talked about something Henry didn’t understand. Something about… plans? Jewels? Were they going on a mission? A heist? Like in the movies?

Henry stayed obediently quiet, took off his backpack, and turned to his food. _Whoa._ Although he minded the broccoli that stayed to one side, corn topping mashed potatoes flanking a juicy slab of steak took up most of the plate. Not even school food looked as good as this. He scarfed down his meal, hardly pausing long enough to use a utensil.

He froze upon hearing Reginald clear his throat.

Henry looked up at him and sat up straight, quite aware some sauce now smeared across his cheek. Chief Terrence chuckled, though the noise was quiet and far from malicious.

Reginald huffed, a look of disgust marring his features, “Where did you learn to eat?”

“ _Sorry_ ,” Henry signed, shrinking into himself. _Stupid, stupid Henry. He was being nice to you and then you were so stupid! Stupid, stupid. Learn to eat proper._

Reginald repeated his question, albeit a little more forcefully. “Who taught you manners? Donkeys?”

Henry shook his head and mumbled something incoherent. He inwardly smacked himself. _The headmistress would be more than pissed. Henry was due for another beating, wasn’t he? Oh, he hated those._

Reginald puffed, “Henry, you must consider your image as well as ours. If you eat and act like a mannerless child, no one will treat you with respect. Toppats _command_ respect. You will need to look and eat and talk properly.”

“ _Sorry_.”

Reginald let out a small sigh. Oh no. What had Henry done wrong? Was that not a proper word? Maybe it wasn’t. Henry didn’t know “proper.” But he should! Teachers liked to act proper! He should have paid attention to how his teachers acted. Eyes up, Henry! Pay attention!

Reginald went on, his voice way gentler than Henry expected, “You have a lot to learn. Straighten your back; don’t hunch over like that. Don’t put your elbows on the table.”

Henry obeyed. Reginald explained what he was actually supposed to use a fork for but called it a weird name. British people were weird. But he had to learn what they were talking about.

Then, Reginald stopped talking and indicated Henry’s half-eaten plate. Henry, his back straight and his elbows hanging off the table by a few inches and one hand grasping his fork, stabbed a piece of steak that had been peeled off the main piece and, with a glance up at Reginald to make sure he was not screwing up again, ate it.

“That’s better,” Reginald stated.

“You never waste a _second_ about bad manners, do you?”

“Not at all. Bad manners may as well be a giant sign of a terrible upbringing or rudeness. As Henry is not the latter, it must be the former. Living here with us, it’s prudent to learn good manners quickly.”

Then, the men were no longer paying attention to him.

Henry, a little frustrated at how much more slowly this style of eating was compared to his improper way of eating, cut the steak apart with a knife rather than tear it with his fork. Though, as he got to the broccoli, he hesitated. Ugh, broccoli. None of the other kids like broccoli and Henry was no different.

 _“Henry, you will sit here until you eat your vegetables. I don’t care if you get tired or it molds, you_ will _eat it. Understand?”_

Some of the older boys were successful in hiding the disgusting vegetables, but Henry was rarely as good. He was good at taking and hiding said taken things, but for some reason, the Headmistress and the other ladies were able to find vegetables on him like dogs on treats. What would Reginald say if he did that? Red was able to see Henry steal from him, so he might find out, too.

Henry choked down the rest of his dinner. Only after the fact did he realize he hadn’t taken a single sip of his apple juice. So, that was next on his agenda. The pungent taste washed away the warm, thick greens that for some reason took longer to eat than the chewier steak

Soon enough, the adults were done eating and Henry followed them to where they dropped off the dishes as well as the garbage. A door in the corner led up a set of stairs into a long hallway. Giant doorways void of doors lined the walls at long, specific intervals. Pipes and a few metal boxes crossed over the walls.

Reginald hardly had to glance at the doors before opening an empty one. Not only was it larger than Henry’s little square of space at the orphanage, being the appropriate size of a bedroom, but there were two real sized beds on either side of the room. Some decorations like pretty toys and a chest at the foot of the left bed were the first things he saw.

Reginald said, “Here is where you’ll sleep. Howie lives here, too; he was adopted, eh, two years ago. You can take a shower. The clothes we picked out might not fit you, but you’ll need to do the best with what you have at the moment. That will change by tomorrow.”

Henry couldn’t help a timid smile as he followed the two further down the hall. Near the end of the hall, Reginald gestured to one of the doors. “This room is mine. That is Red’s.” Red’s door was next to Reginald’s. Near the end of the hall was Chief Terrence’s. It was next to a door Reginald referred to as Chief Terrence’s office. They doubled back and then continued.

Well, now he got to go to his room and really look around the place. Henry patted the tip of his hand, fingers flush, to his chin and then his left hand, open and facing down.

“Good night, Henry,” both Reginald and Chief Terrence wished, and Red gave him a small nod and a grunt. “Red,” Henry heard Reginald say before the door shut.

Henry set his backpack on his bed. He looked through it and brought out his leftover school supplies to set within the chest at the foot of his bed. Once those were out of the way, he pulled out a few trinkets that definitely belonged to him. He sat on his bed and played with one of his favorite toys: a blue rectangular box with a screen and multiple buttons on its face. _Gameboy_ proudly proclaimed itself on the bottom rim around the screen. He looked around the room and, as he heard footsteps, quickly packed the Gameboy back into his backpack and stuffed it under his bed, hidden beneath the hem of his blanket.

Henry took a deep breath and opened the door to what he believed was his closet on the wall just past the chest at the foot of his bed. Yes, it was his closet. Clothes too big for him--surprisingly, just big enough for the young teen boys with a little room to grow--hung on the clothes rack. Translucent drawers held underclothes and a pair of shoes. He didn’t need shoes, though. Not right now. Right now, it was time for bed. Well, after his shower. None of them liked how dirty his hair was.

He sifted through the hanging clothes, eyes wide in wonder. Even the plainest shirt--a short-sleeved black shirt with white sleeves--was so much more… _new_ than his or the other boys’. He remembered seeing some of the older kids from school with shirts similar to these, but the sleeves were all but gone and that was great for the athletic types who loved showing off their muscles. Theirs still had the folded collars, though many of them wore the collars popped up. It was dumb, but he never questioned them. Especially since he stole the lead jock’s girlfriend’s hairbrush. It’s not like he was ever that good at using a brush--in fact, it was pretty painful most of the time--but the mirror set in the faux gold bedazzled face of the brush was just so… irresistible. He had seen it and there was nothing in the whole world he wanted more than that brush.

Henry plucked a soft set of light blue pajamas speckled white and strode into the bathroom. The bathroom wasn’t very large, but it was still big enough for a toilet, sink, and shower--something that could not be said for the other personal bathrooms in the orphanage.

Henry still had trouble with his stupid hair, but he managed to get the dirt and sand out of it. His hair was still matted and refused to be brushed out. Eh, he was going to sleep, anyway. He could worry about it, later.

He left the bathroom, only to come face-to-face with a [new boy,](https://sta.sh/0t1h41cotyn) most of his strawberry blond hair hidden beneath a brown top hat. This one was only about six years older than Henry, but already rather tall. The new boy blinked and cocked his head. “Who’re you?”

Henry didn’t answer with any clear words and instead retreated back into himself.

“Oh! Uh, Ah didn’t mean ta scare ya. Are you the new kid they were gonna adopt? Ah heard of you!” The boy held out his hand. “Howie! Howie Howitzer. You are…?”

Henry didn’t take his hand. “ _H-E-N-R-Y_.”

Howie raised an eyebrow. “Is that sign language? Sorry, li’l buddy, Ah don’t understand that.”

Henry nodded. Yeah, that’s about what he expected.

“Well, sorry about that, then. Ah guess we’re bunkin’ together! Right side a’ the room is mine, but the left’s all yours. If ya need any help puttin’ stuff up, Ah’m free ta help. Jus’ in case ya brought anything? Eh, oh! You probably want out. Hehe! Sorry!” He stepped aside.

Henry quickly stepped out of the bathroom. _What in the heck?_

Howie grinned. “We’re going to be friends in no time! Ah was told we were gonna have a boy my age. Ahh, well, Ah’m not complaining about an unexpected face ’round here! Ah got extra pilla’s so help yerself!” With that, Howie walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind himself.

Henry stared at the door for a moment before setting his dirty clothes in the basket in his closet and laying down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a snake in my boot.
> 
> Howie has ~2 lines in the game, both in the "Master Bounty Hunter" line in "Completing the Mission." He's seen exclusively in MBH, if I'm not mistaken, and bears no weapons. So I put him in a behind-the-scenes sort of role, especially with Mr. Goldbloom (the CEO) also being unarmed next to him.  
>  **MBH: Convert**  
>  Howie: "What's the plan, sir?"  
> RHM: "Keep the door secure."  
>  **MBH: Dogpile**  
>  Henry & co.: *tackles RHM*  
> Howie: "Oh, are we doing a dogpile?" *flop*  
> Mr. Goldbloom: "Aw, heck yeah, a dogpile!" *flop*
> 
> Unfortunately, he's not a Western bro. I gave him the accent originally because I thought that Howie's lines were Mr. Goldbloom's, and Mr. Goldbloom's line was Howie's. I really like those accents. It was _so fun_ to write Fiddleford in my "Gravity Falls" fanfictions, and it hasn't stopped being fun with Howie. ~~I changed what the cells look like so whoops why stop there~~


	4. First Day

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bz--click_.

Henry jolted awake and sat up. He looked around, but no alarm sat beside him. Instead, Howie pulled his arm back after patting the box-shaped alarm on his bedside table. He sat up and, stifling a yawn, looked at Henry. “Hhhh… Oh. Mornin’.” Howie pushed himself out of bed and made his way to his closet.

Henry got out of bed after Howie did. The teen plucked a pair of clothes from his closet and walked into the bathroom. The door was partially open, and the light left on during the night. Henry watched him go before approaching his own closet. It was cut into the wall and slid open. Inside were clothes. Even the smallest pants--short jeans that weren’t shorts… capris, probably--were too big around his waist. There was a black and white shirt, though the white body went past his belt line and his wrist was hidden by the sleeve when he draped the shirt over his shoulder. Howie left the bathroom, redressed with his pajamas in his arm and parts of his hair damp. Henry replaced him, ready to get back to Reginald and Red.

“Henry?” Howie prompted as Henry left the bathroom. “Ah know today’s yer first day, so do ya wanna go to breakfast together?”

Henry jolted and then looked away. _He was just being nice, Henry! Don’t be rude!_

“Ah mean, it’s okay if ya don’t wanna. Uh, when Ah was new, Ah walked with ma dad. So, we can wait fer yer parents…?” he offered. “Er, anyway, Ah’m sure you’ll be mighty busy today. Learnin’ about the airship, maybe some a’ the things you’ll be doin’. But Ah got some time of my own. So, Ah could teach you some. Oh, yeah. It’ll be a piece a’ cake. The adults on the ground’ll just trip over themselves gettin’ ya anythin’ ya want if ya ask the right way.” Howie put on his top hat and stood at the door, grinning. “What’d’ya say? Next time we go out, Ah’ll teach ya how to charm or weasel the wallet outta anyone. In return, we share some a’ the profit.”

 _Well, he seemed like a nice kid, and he probably knew what he was doing. But he was a teen, and teens didn’t like kids. That was a fact._ He started to shake his head when a knock came upon the door. Howie pressed a button by the door. The door opened with a hiss, revealing Reginald and Red.

Reginald caught sight of Henry near immediately. “Good morning, you two. Come along, now, breakfast starts at eight.”

Henry perked up and walked after them. He tugged at the hem of his pants. Thankfully, the pants were naturally short and didn’t quite get underfoot. That didn’t mean the clothes enjoyed staying around his thin, wiry body.

“We will need to get some new clothes for you,” Reginald stated. “How do those shoes fit?”

Henry looked down at his feet and then up at Reginald and patted the flat back of his right hand against the flat palm of his left.

Reginald nodded. “Very good. Now, tables are called in a random order. There are four tables, but Red and I sit at the first one across from Chief Terrence. Howie, you usually sit with Mr. Rich, correct?”

Howie nodded. “Table four, near the middle.”

“Good. Mr. Rich is a senior member of the Toppats.”

Henry kept one hand in his pockets and walked close by Reginald’s side, but also Red’s. He could _feel_ Howie’s gaze on the back of his head, and he had to force himself not to look back. _Howie was nice. Howie was his roommate; he couldn’t be mean. Please._

“Now,” Reginald continued. “Tables are chosen at random every day, but everyone is given enough time to eat.” Henry listening with rapt attention as Reginald spoke, teaching him about the cafeteria system in the airship and the manners associated with it, none of which he’d ever heard. Well, he _had_ heard that people weren’t supposed to eat with their hands, for most meals, but instead use spoons and forks and stuff. Again, Reginald sometimes used weird terminology Henry’s isolated self hadn’t encountered before, but he could understand through context clues. Maybe later Reginald and Red would teach him something else about the ship, or their job!

Once they found themselves in the giant cafeteria, Howie left. That didn’t mean Henry was low on attention by any meaning of the word. As soon as they arrived at their table--Henry sitting between Reginald and Red--he felt quite a few eyes on him.

“Aw,” [a woman with florescent violet hair](https://sta.sh/01j7cf4fr89w) cooed. Her own top hat was a little small and purple violet, pulled back to show off her shiny hair. “You must be our newest recruit, Henry!”

Henry quietly nodded, attempting to meet her eyes. He could barely hold her gaze for longer than a second.

“I’m Matilda.” She brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. “You are just the cutest. How much longer until you take this ship, huh?”

Chief Terrence chuckled in an answer, “Oh I think I might need to wait a while longer for competition.”

“I assume you’re going to spend the day showing him the ropes and getting him settled in?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” was Reginald’s answer. “In fact, Henry, I have a guest’s card for you to use. It will take a few days to get your very own, but it will work in the meantime.”

[A gruffer voice](https://sta.sh/018k5slymcqw), marked by a surprisingly heavy Scottish accent, came from slightly farther away, perhaps beside Red or across from Matilda. “Eleven right? Where are ya startin’? Beggin’?”

Reginald sat up straight and turned his head to look down the table at the speaker. “Wallace, we don’t _beg._ Henry is a sophisticated young boy. He’s shown potential in lockpicking and, if his stories are true, which they most likely are considering his skill level, pickpocketing.”

Henry nodded in confirmation.

“Table Three!” a voice called loud and clear from the opposite side of the cafeteria. The third table in emptied as people got up and made their way toward an open wall, where a buffet not unlike a school lunch line was located. He watched as people slowly filtered back, plates laden with food.

Matilda hummed, “You have such cute hair. I’d bet with a good brushing you’d look like the perfect little gentleman!”

 _This_ caught Henry’s attention. He looked back at her and then away and mumbled something unintelligible.

“Table One!”

Henry looked around as people from their table got to their feet. Henry stuck close to Reginald’s side as they made their way to the bar. Okay _now_ he hadn’t seen so much food in his life. The glimpses of ingredients he’d seen in the refrigerator was dwarfed by the spread laid out before him. He gave himself a generous portion of eggs, pausing only upon seeing _pancakes._ There were so many of them! And they were fluffy and golden brown and looked _so good!_

He stopped upon hearing Reginald say, “Only take as much as you need, Henry. Too much food isn’t good, _especially_ if it could have been given to someone with less.”

Instead of grabbing more food, he drowned his plate in syrup and snatched a glass of orange juice. He didn’t quite understand whatever conversation Reginald and Chief Terrence had launched themselves into, but they were animated about whatever it was.

After breakfast, Henry received a lanyard with a plain white keycard clipped to it. Although he was not allowed to wear it outside of the ship, he didn’t quite like wearing it _inside_ the ship, either. Rather, wearing it around his neck in general. Wouldn’t it be just as useful in his pocket? Technically, it was hard to lose something around one’s neck, but it was also easier to get caught and choked by it. Though, Reginald wore that heavy golden dollar sign embedded with baby blue gems around his neck. Reginald didn’t worry about it, so Henry probably shouldn’t, either.

The first stop, Reginald claimed, was a clothing store. As Howie didn’t come back, it was just Henry, Reginald, and Red. Chief Terrence had a lot he needed to get done, so he trusted Reginald and Red to help Henry.

They were back in Red Mesa. They were in the big city, not the scrubby outskirts. There were so many people walking and buses and cars on the street. It was busy and hot with the sun glaring down at them. Their trip lost its charm rather quickly as they moved around the children’s section of the store. When Henry attempted to make his complaint known to Reginald, holding a plainer shirt as well as another few with some artwork on them, he received a “This is important, Henry! We can’t have you walking around in clothes too big for yourself.” That still didn’t make Henry any less bored. Red, in the cramped store, had started signing to himself, his hand by his side. Henry, though a little uncertain if he should be “reading” what the man was saying, watched him. It was mostly garbled nonsense, fingerspelling and half-hearted words that required the use of one hand Henry could barely understand. Store, people, crowd, clothes, time, outside, desert, clock, light, Reginald, Henry, shirt, poster.

Finally, they made their way to the checkout line. Henry struggled between keeping his own clothes at least slightly fitted and holding onto new clothes. Red held a few shirts and jeans over one arm. Henry, dying a little inside every second they spent in that boring store, looked around. [The woman](https://sta.sh/019w5zx2zeyn) behind them caught his eye. Rather, the purse beside the woman, which was on the ground by her feet. His eyes went wide. Sequins… were normally cheap, _sure_ , but the way these ones glimmered in the light like gemstones. How the designs were etched into whatever material the purse was made of and how showy the bedazzled thing seemed to be. It beaconed to him, desperate to be free of its owner, who talked quietly on a bedazzled phone, her ring-studded fingers and painted nails gripping the device in one hand and a basket in the other. Now, Henry hadn’t been so bold as to take anything as big as that. He could fit his mirror, Gameboy, and a few more of his little treasures inside it without a problem. But look at that!

Henry glanced up at Reginald as [the cashier](https://sta.sh/01ys8wje643s) started to swipe items across the scanner. Henry’s burden was set upon the counter for sorting and scanning, freeing his hands. Though Reginald was paying no attention to the boy, Red’s gaze, just as stoic and impossible to read as ever, was set squarely on Henry. Henry threw a glance at the slowly dwindling pile of clothes and then back at the bag, struggling not to turn his head to draw attention to himself. He knew he’d get into trouble if he made a scene. Ooooh, but that bag… he needed it. That was that. He’d only ever had one thing so shiny and pretty as that, and the mirror-brush was his and his only. He had Reginald’s necklace for a little while, but that _definitely_ wasn’t his. Even when Henry looked away, the bag tugged insistently at the back of his mind. He could do it. He could. He could take the purse away from the distracted lady, who still hadn’t looked down or even paused to take a breath. Even with Red watching him, Henry could do it.

Just as they were leaving and Henry started to pass the woman, his hawkish eyes trained on the purse, he heard a deep voice say, “Oi.” Henry looked up at Red, startled by the sudden voice. “Time and place, Kid.”

Henry frowned at him. Of _course_ this was the time and place. She was distracted! She’d never even notice it was gone until it was too late. He looked back at the lady, who still hadn’t noticed him. She heaved her bag up, the material warping under the weight of its contents, and onto the counter. He looked at Red and then ahead.

…maybe he wouldn’t have been able to carry that thing. _Maybe._

Before they left, Henry was encouraged to change into one of the new outfits--similar to the one he wore before with a white chest and black sleeves, but with regular fitted jeans rather than capris.

Reginald stated, “Now, Henry, there is a time and place for everything. Remember the repercussions of your actions. That woman was going to be _using_ that purse before we left. No matter how sly you were, she would have caught onto you-- _especially_ as that woman obviously has too much too show off, meaning that bag would have been much too heavy for you. Besides, it was all fake. There was nothing even real about it, other than the leather of the material. Whoever forged it should be ashamed of themselves.” He cleared his throat. “Now, Red was correct. You are already talented. But your technique needs work.”

 _Finally!_ Henry listened intently to everything Reginald had to say. His speech was weird; he never directly said _anything_ as they passed through the crowd. In fact, had Henry not had previous context, he’d be convinced Reginald was trying to review his math lessons from the previous school year. Henry was prompted on occasion and he would answer to the best of his ability.

Soon enough, Henry had to also learn about something Reginald called _improvisation._ Making up stuff on the spot; it was a lot like lying--in fact there were heavy elements of deceit in it--as well as acting. People didn’t like it when they thought a kid was up to no good--which was technically true in this case--and so being able to make up a story on the spot was incredibly important. Henry’s muteness restricted him severely, but also opened up the portal to sympathy or pity or a parent’s natural instinct to look out for a child’s wellbeing and seek out his parents. It was here--and _only_ here--that Reginald and Red would step in, thanking the man or woman for “finding” Reginald’s son. Then, once out of earshot, Henry would be critiqued, driving home the necessity of independence as Henry would not always have them waiting a few yards away just in case he messed up.

Reginald went on, “We have been out here for quite some time! Are you hungry?”

Henry turned his attention on Reginald and nodded. _Food! Yes!_

“Hmm… there is a sandwich shop near here.”

Henry followed Reginald’s gaze. Indeed, a large shop with a sign proudly proclaiming “Sandwich City” sat on the street corner, buzzing with life in and around it. In his humble opinion, pizza would have been great. There was a pizza joint just down the block! But Henry wasn’t paying for the food.

In line to order just inside the airconditioned, fragrant shop, there was another [boy of his age](https://sta.sh/0e0f5ixmg0s) and perhaps a [girl a little older](https://sta.sh/0x9v3ee9npq). The girl whined at her [well-dressed father](https://sta.sh/01do790vrr5k) insistently, tipping her head back and shuffling her feet. Her thick, golden blonde hair cut to her shoulders whisked in the air-conditioned breeze. The boy beside her, sharing her blond hair if thinner and shorter, said something. The man sighed and waved his hand. The kids bolted, running into the main area, free of their bonds.

Henry watched them go, a hollow feeling stirring in his chest. The boy tripped over his own shoes and was caught by the girl, who pulled him to his feet, shoved him off balance, and then ran again. The boy in the black and white shirt saw Henry and stopped running. He looked to the girl and said something. Soon, both of the children were approaching.

Henry jolted and stood stock still, straight as an arrow, by Reginald’s side, half-hoping that if he stood still long enough, they wouldn’t be able to see him. Like a T-Rex or something. A thousand thoughts flitted through his mind, each worse than the last, each feeding the anxiety he knew shouldn’t be there but couldn’t help but feel.

“Hey, Kid!” the girl announced, stopping a few feet away. “Who are you?”

Henry tried to answer, but any ability to speak or desire to move was robbed of him and he said nothing.

After a few seconds of silence, the girl went on, “Well, we haven’t seen you guys around here before. My name is Ellie. This is my baby brother, Jacob.”

“I’m not a baby!” Jacob crossed.

“ _I’m_ older, so I can say that,” Ellie pointed out. “Anyway, do you want to play?”

Reginald looked down at Henry. Henry leaned forward a little to get a better look at them. The girl was innocent enough, bearing jeans and a pink shirt with a thin white “jacket” that didn’t reach her waist. The boy beside her, Jacob, was shorter and younger with an oversized black and white shirt streaked with dust.

Reginald asked, “What do you say, Henry?”

Henry hid behind Reginald again, loosely closing his hand and tapping his first two fingers against his thumb twice and then pressed the tip of his hand to his chin and pushed out, the back of his hand facing out.

Reginald turned back to Ellie and Jacob. “Not today, then.”

“Aww,” Ellie complained. “Fine. Come on, Jacob! Let’s find a table!”

Henry watched as the siblings ran off. Jacob hopped onto the seat of a booth and Ellie joined him. They quickly went to a game of “Rock, Paper, Scissors,” where Jacob favored “rock” and Ellie was fond of “scissors.” Knowing this themselves, the game quickly fell to randomness. He couldn’t understand what the two were saying, but whatever it was they took amusement from it. Eventually, the man whom Henry assumed was their father approached the table, a tray of sandwiches in his arms. The kids calmed down enough to eat their lunches.

As Henry got further into the line, his line of sight was blocked. He could no longer see the children, and thus he looked ahead. A heaviness weighed in his heart, a type of remorse. Maybe… they weren’t so bad. Well, he wasn’t going to ever see them again, so it didn’t matter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wallace has a Scottish accent. Huh.
> 
> My sister sometimes signs what she's thinking as she's talking. Since Red is more than likely scanning the store for danger, signing his thoughts/what he's seeing seemed like the most logical choice. Oh, and hello, (most of the) Rose Family~!


	5. Hair

When they got back to the airship, Henry had to give up some of his catch for the Vault, but that was okay because he got to keep the shiny jewelry he’d prioritized over the money. Even if some of them were _obviously fake_ or something. How could the little gems on the necklace and rings he’d found be fake? They were beautiful! He had one necklace, three rings, and two bracelets, with the necklace and two rings holding jewels. One ring was a simple golden band, and one wristband was bejeweled while the other was a string of pearls. He squirreled away most of his stuff but decided to wear the diamond ring, which was real. The ring was rather big and tended to fall off. Reginald gave him a strip of cloth to wrap around his finger to give the ring something to hold onto. It stopped trying to fall off, even when Henry signed.

Soon after they got back to the airship, Chief Terrence approached them. He came from the direction of the… Bridge? Was it called that? Why was it called the Bridge? The thing above the Engine and Brig was called a _catwalk_ instead of a bridge even though there weren’t any cats. They were probably making up names by this point. “Hello! I hope you had a nice outing!” was the man’s greeting.

Reginald smiled. “Yes, Henry learned quite a bit. He’s a natural with pickpocketing, and we did test his memory and observation skills, which are just as important if not more so. It will take some time to learn how to improvise, and he still needs work, but he is a talented young boy.”

Chief Terrence smiled at Henry, who returned the look. Chief Terrence hummed, “I didn’t expect anything different. Well! Have a good day. I hope you get settled in well, Henry. See you later, Reginald, Red.” With a wave goodbye and one reciprocated, Chief Terrence was off.

Reginald clapped his hands together. “Now! Would you like to look around the airship?”

Henry knocked on the air and rubbed a circle on his chest with his hand.

Reginald thought for a moment. “Hmm… where to start… how about the Bay?” After receiving a nod from Henry, they walked off down the hallway. Henry stayed by his side, looking up at Red. He still didn’t _look_ like anything, like he cared or didn’t care. His signing was a little clunky, forced almost. Like he wasn’t comfortable with it. But Red didn’t talk first, and he signed to himself when they were in the store. With either language, he talked a lot less than Reginald did and was a lot less showy about how or what he felt.

Red didn’t give or expect a response, he just cared that Henry listened to him and found some way to answer, even if it wasn’t by speaking. That was pretty nice, he supposed. Reginald, on the other hand, explained where they were and what each place they visited did. He tried to get Henry’s input--something as small as a “yes” or “no” most of the time--and didn’t _seem_ disappointed by the mild nod or shake of a head.

The Bay was where they went first at the far end of the ship. When they were walking over the catwalk, Reginald was very adamant Henry pay attention to where he was stepping. Red gently nudged Henry away from the edge, allowing him to stand between him and Reginald. Henry didn’t like the catwalk. In fact, as they walked over the grumbling engine so far below, he stuck close enough to Red’s side that his shoulder brushed his hip. He kept his hands firmly to himself. Red did, too.

The Bay was huge and filled with crates and boxes. People meandered around the place, some chatting to one another and others inspecting boxes. Upon seeing them enter, those that had been talking serenely stopped and quickly became busy with something.

Henry looked up at Reginald, confused. He didn’t _look_ angry. Reginald said, “This is where the shipments to and from the Clan go. The job rotates so everyone helps with it. Some people are stationed here permanently. It seems while a _few people_ were taking breaks a little early--” Reginald’s voice raised an octave. No one looked back, but a few ducked their heads, either embarrassed or nervous or both. “--they will be getting their work done on time.” He lowered his voice a little. “Because if they weren’t doing their jobs, they’d get in trouble.”

Henry nodded with a quiet hum. Just like at the orphanage or school. If he didn’t do his chores or homework, he got in a lot of trouble.

They looped around through the ship, Reginald explaining the various rooms they had. None of them were really that exciting. There _was_ the gym. There were a few people in it at the moment. At first thought when he mentioned “gym” Henry had expected a lot more monkey bars. But these weren’t monkey bars. Strange looking equipment ran along the walls, with benches sitting across half the western wall. Large water machines--one empty and another half full--were by the benches. Mats covered the floor. While there were big machines over the floor, there was one area empty free of equipment.

As they made their way down the hall, they stopped upon coming across a woman calling Reginald’s name. This was the violet-haired lady, the one who talked about Henry’s hair. Henry kept quiet and half-hid behind Reginald as she approached. “I see you’re here with Henry! I thought you three would be here.”

“Yes! We were just finishing up our tour around the ship,” Reginald claimed.

Matilda grinned. “That’s good! Say, you recently came back from a fruitful day on the ground, hmm? Well, over breakfast, I mentioned helping with Henry’s hair, and I mean it. Curly hair can be very difficult to deal with.”

“You’re telling me,” Reginald chuckled.

Red looked down at Henry, who watched Matilda with round eyes. Oooooh please don’t make him go with her. Please! She was going to try to _help_ him but that would mean pulling at his hair and he hated that because his stupid hair always hurt. Any time he tried to brush through it, it ended up giving him a headache and making his scalp feel raw. It was worse when the ladies tried to do it for him because they didn’t seem to understand when they hurt him.

Reginald went on, “Now, what do you mean?”

“Hmm?” she prompted. “What do I mean about what?”

“Helping with Henry’s hair.”

“Oh, yes. Henry’s is tightly curled and short, so it tangles easily. It’s why you shouldn’t be using a brush in this instance. Brushes are good for straight or already neat hair, but they can just pull and rip at knots and matts, which Henry might have. Those just get worse with time. Actually, if you want, I could teach you a thing or two about it and you can help him out yourself. What do you say?”

“I’ve never untangled _matts_ before,” Reginald claimed. “That’s a good idea. Thank you, Matilda.”

The woman hummed, “Good! Come on, I brought some things with me, but it’ll be much easier in front of a sink and mirror.”

They found a unisex bathroom rather quickly. A line of mirrors stood above a counter of sinks. Behind them were bathroom stalls, but Henry didn’t need those right now. “Now, Henry’s hair is short, but I think it’s a good length to work with right now. You see these flatter patches here? Those old hags in charge of--what?” Red gave her a flat look. “What do--oh. Sorry. What I _meant_ to say was the old _women_ in charge of him didn’t know anything about curly hair. Poor boy must have gone through _so much_. You’re going to be okay now, though, Henry. You have a few matts in your hair, which is normal for curly-haired people especially. Now, trying to brush through them wouldn’t do any good. It’ll hurt and it could break the brush and it’s a load of sh--nonsense to tell people to do. So!” She dug around in her bag and brought out a spray bottle and bottle of… conditioner, maybe. “It’ll take a little while, remember that. So, you have to be patient. This is conditioner that will ease up the tangles in your hair, which is caused by hair that’s fallen out and tangled together. Once it’s worked its magic, then you can start pulling apart the knots. Gently, of course. If it becomes painful, that means you need to stop and work on another one. Here.” She offered the spray bottle half filled with water to Reginald.

Reginald hummed and stepped aside, gloved hands behind his back. “Red, why don’t _you_ help out Henry? You’ll get much more out of this than I.”

Red glanced at him and took it, looking at the bottle and her and Henry and then back to her. “Alright.”

“For this conditioner to work, his hair has to be _damp_. Not dripping, so the sink is a no-go. That spray bottle mostly just mists. Oh, right, turn the tip of it. I locked it so it didn’t spray the inside of my purse. Useful thing to have.”

Still looking to Matilda for guidance, Red sprayed down Henry’s hair. Henry flinched at the cold water that collected on his ear and forehead. Red immediately stopped. “Did that hurt?”

Henry, his eyes still shut, signed, “ _No. It’s cold._ ”

Matilda hummed. “Well, that won’t do. Here, I’ll add some warm water to it. It can’t be hot, the water needs to be a little cool, but it shouldn’t be cold enough to make you uncomfortable.” After receiving the spray bottle, she just needed to add already warm water, as the bottle was only half full. After a couple of test sprays on her forearm, she handed the bottle back and dried herself off. “Now, don’t worry about hurting him. This part should be entirely painless. But, Henry, do tell us if you’re uncomfortable, okay?”

Henry curled one hand so his thumb and forefingers touched and flicked two fingers, thumb between them, forward and down.

This time, the water wasn’t cold, which was good. Henry still didn’t feel like relaxing. She sounded really nice, but he still couldn’t trust her. His hair was curly and matted and stupid.

She traded her bottle of conditioner for the spray bottle in Red’s hand and, after locking the sprayer, instructed him in using the soap. “Don’t just put it on his head and try to do it all at once. It’ll just make it worse. You need to go in clumps and rub it in. Be gentle. The matting in his hair looks like it’s already pulling at his scalp.”

Henry tried to keep himself from flinching as Red ran his hand through clumps of his hair at a time, conditioner more coating his hands than Henry’s hair. Matilda hummed instruction to Red, gesturing or pointing but not touching Henry to teach Red. There were a few times when Henry flinched at his hair being pulled. Red stopped what he was doing each time and looked to Matilda, who reassured him that he’d come across a particularly bad one and just needed to stay patient. Finally, Matilda hummed, “Now! He should keep that in his hair for at least an hour. That will moisturize his hair and make it easier to detangle it.”

Reginald voiced their thoughts. “An hour?”

Matilda nodded. “Yes. It takes a while to work its magic. In the meantime, you can wear this to keep the soap off your shoulders.” She pulled out what looked like a miniature trash bag already pulled tight at the top. Not tight enough to be closed, though. Henry, a little confused, managed to pull it over his head, hiding his hair under the semi-transparent material. “Good! Now, after an hour passes, then you get to start taking out the tangles. Don’t try to wash out the soap before because it’s still working, and you could just end up pulling his hair. Would you like me to come find you again in an hour? Or I could stay, and we can talk about preventing it?”

“Good idea. How do you say we could keep his hair from getting this tangled again?”

“Make sure to keep the tangles out in the first place,” Matilda advised. “Sleeping on it, not combing through it--even with just your fingers--or just ruffling it too much can cause it to tangle. If it tangles too much, it could matt. May I take a look at your hair, Reginald?”

“Eh… okay?”

Reginald wasn’t too much taller than Matilda, so he didn’t really have to duck his head too far. Even so, he’d hardly taken his hat off before she saw what she needed and stepped back. “Well! You certainly do take quite a bit of care with your hair. You could do with a few less washings a week, though. It’s a little dry. But it’s not as tight, almost wavy. Anyway! Onto preventing.”

Henry found it a little hard to concentrate on her after a while. Hair stuff was _really_ boring after all. But he needed to pay attention because it was for him. Though, she was a little confusing. He could play however he wanted, but it was bad to ruffle his hair? But playing did that sometimes? And so did sleeping, which could cause it to tangle. But he needed sleep? Suffice to say, he was thoroughly confused by the do’s and don’ts of his own hair. Thankfully, she at least seemed to notice his confusion and clarified that yes, he could play outside or go to sleep. But he would need to comb his hair out after. He could do that with a comb or his own fingers.

Then, Matilda’s phone beeped at her and she turned off the alarm. “Well! That’s an hour! Now, the conditioner should have had enough time to start working. Here, take off the shower cap. Good. Red, you’ll need to help with this part. Always start at the bottom, near the tips of the hair. Now, know that it’s perfectly natural to have a lot of extra hair, so don’t panic. It’s a good thing as it was that dead hair that was causing the matts.”

Henry tensed and shut his eyes again. If he wasn’t looking, it would go away. Eventually. Everything goes away, eventually. Everything. With Matilda’s instruction and encouragement, Red slowly pulled apart the knots in his hair, smaller or looser ones first in the bottom. Henry knew there was supposed to be pain, after all they were pulling out knots, and knots pulled at the hair on his head. But for a long time, it never happened. That was, until they came across a bad patch farther up, closer to his scalp. Henry sucked in his breath and clenched his teeth against the sudden sting. Red let go immediately and turned to Matilda.

“You can skip this one for now. This step is just getting as much out as possible. Is that okay with you, Henry?”

Henry opened his eyes into slits and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

“Can we keep working on your hair?” Matilda elaborated. “It’s your hair, so it’s your decision.”

 _It was his hair, so it was his decision? Well, it wasn’t his decision to have curly hair, but it was his decision to make it messy and knotted so it wasn’t his decision in how to untangle it. At least, that’s what the ladies told him. But the ladies also pulled at his hair a lot and scolded him over it._ Henry curled one hand so his thumb and forefingers touched and flicked two fingers, thumb between them, forward and down.

“Okay,” Red translated.

“Good! Now, you can add a little more of the conditioner to that knot and try to work it into the hair. You might actually be able to break apart the matt, though that’s only maybe so if it doesn’t, don’t force it. And while we wait for that to start working…” She brought out a comb with wide teeth spaced apart. Henry shut his eyes again. Okay, so, breaking apart knots with their fingers was one thing, but combs were a whole different thing. “Start at the end, like before, and gently work your way up. This should help take out more tangles and dead hair. Be patient, because his hair is a little on the tough side.”

Red did as he was instructed. Henry… began to relax. When he got to a point where the comb would snag on a knot, Red tried his best to hold onto its base so he wouldn’t accidentally pull Henry’s hair. Then it would quickly go away as the comb did what combs were supposed to do and brushed it out. They were eventually able to straighten out the big matt on the top of his head.

After what felt like an eternity later, they had to switch combs to one with finer teeth that had less spacing. The big tooth one was set in the sink. Henry, able to see in front of himself now that he’d relaxed enough to open his eyes, watched them through the mirror. The thin-tooth comb took way less time as his hair had _finally_ been brushed completely out. They had to use the sink to rinse out his hair, which gave him a crick in the neck from how he had to bend his neck back so far. But it didn’t last long.

Matilda allowed Henry to dry out his hair, careful to instruct him on a way to do it without making it easy to tangle his hair again. “There!” Matilda hummed, grinning at Henry with her hands held tight together. “How do you feel?”

 _Way better._ Henry hadn’t noticed how much his hair tended to pull itself and how dirty it made him and how he kind of liked being able to run his fingers through his hair without pulling something. He smiled tentatively back. “ _Better. Thank you!_ ”

Reginald said, “Good! Yes, he says he’s feeling better. He certainly looks better, too.”

“Oh, good. It’s always such a shame to see anyone abused like that. Those old ha-- _women_ are very lucky I wasn’t there.” She sniffed contemptuously and then went on in a lighter tone, “Well, if you need any more help, don’t be afraid to ask. Remember: you should be washing your hair once a week, but you can give it a good rinse on occasion, perhaps in the middle of the week. Too much and it’ll just kill your hair. Oh, and search for detangling shampoo. That should help prevent matting, too.” Her hand started to move as if to touch him, but she did not follow through with the action and instead wrapped up her hair care products in the damp towel and left with a cheery goodbye.

Henry ran his fingers through his hair a few more times. He still hardly believed it was real. But it was, because of Red and Matilda.

Red checked his wrist and looked to Reginald. Reginald jolted. “Oh! Time flies, doesn’t it? Let’s get to dinner, shall we?”

Henry nodded and followed Red out into the hall leading to the cafeteria. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and kept close, walking between them now as he had been when they were on the catwalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out they're not straight. Haired. Straight-haired. Very curly. >>
> 
> The first version had Chief Terrence call Reginald back to help him pretty much before the tour began, but I decided he thought Reginald looked happy and would indulge him. Because he's chill like that.


	6. Shoot

Henry stood idly next to Red, who sat beside Reginald at the desk. A smaller, taller empty seat sat abandoned. “ _Red, it’s bedtime,_ ” Henry complained, nudging Red so he would pay attention to what Henry said.

“Kid, we still got work to do. Do you want me to bring you to bed?”

Henry shook his head. “ _You’re tired, too._ ”

Reginald smirked. “You’re rubbing off on him, Red.”

Red shot a flat look at Reginald and then turned back to Henry. “Sorry, kid. After this, alright?”

Henry pouted and looked away. He signed a vague “ _okay_ ” without thinking about it.

“We’ll be done soon,” Red reassured Henry and went back to scheming.

Henry wrinkled his nose. Adults never let Henry tell them no when it was _his_ bedtime. It just wasn’t fair adults could say no to bedtime. Henry wasn’t tired, either. The only reason Red wasn’t forcing Henry to go to bed was because he was busy. When Henry was little, if he was being particularly “fussy” or whatever baby word the ladies liked to use, one of the ladies would pick him up and put him in bed. _Well_. Henry couldn’t exactly pick up Red. Red could pick up Henry without even trying, but it didn’t work the other way around. So, he would just need to find a way to make him want to go to bed! Or find a way to make him give up. Hmm… Red didn’t give up easily. Reginald needed sleep, but he was even _harder_ to pull away from work, if not downright impossible. Red could do it, but Red was busy and didn’t want to.

Henry’s baby blue eyes looked over Red. A wide grin fell over him. Well, that’s _one_ way to grab his attention.

Henry bolted for the door, taking the object in his hand with him. He hadn’t made it two steps before Red turned on Henry and then set a hand on his thick head of ginger hair. “ _Henry!_ ” he roared and shot up. Henry, giggling madly to himself, opened the door and darted down the hall. Red--after opening the door again as Henry closed it--flew after him. Henry, holding onto the wide brim of the hat on his head, glanced back. One glance at the infuriated look on the third-in-command’s face would instantly force a reconsideration of the importance of a person’s current action and the mistakes they made leading up to gaining the man’s ire. But Henry couldn’t help a stifled laugh. He rushed up a flight of stairs and darted toward the Board Room. Red had nearly gotten to Henry before the boy jumped into the trash chute and flew down a passage Red couldn’t follow. “ _Henry!_ Dammit…” Red’s words became lost as the chute shut and Henry was pulled by gravity and airflow further into the duct.

Still holding tight to Red’s hat, Henry dug his heels into the lining of the chute and pressed down with his shoulder bracing against the lining and one hand pushing on the opposite side. He slowed to a stop. Like the brakes of a car, he gently let up on the pressure he exerted to give the trash chute a fair chance in tugging him down. Once he got to an opening, he hopped out and found the nearest vent. Though there was a good amount of chilly airflow through the vents, there wasn’t any suction and the vents were square, giving him more ability to move freely unlike the cylindrical trash chute.

Henry was in the vents above the Living Quarters within a minute. He started to push open the register he’d previously loosened but stopped himself. If he went to his room, he was liable to walk straight into Red. Then Red would take his hat and force Henry to go to bed and then he’d leave and do work. That was just giving up with extra steps. But! If Henry went to Red’s room, he’d already be by his bed with his hat and then he’d have no excuse! Without Red helping him, Reginald would need to put down the project and go to bed as well. Ha! Perfect plan!

Henry snuck out of the vent and strutted to Red’s room, a grin on his features as he readjusted the hat. There was a certain thrill with the getaway, sure, and he liked the hat. But the game was _way_ more fun with Red because Henry liked him and trusted him and he wasn’t scary, to Henry at least. That was that.

Henry strolled into the man’s dark room, turned on a light, and hopped into his messily made bed. The bathroom door was shut--a sight Henry was unused to with Howie’s habit of keeping it open--and there was no other bed. He didn’t really get the decoration, as it felt like a mismatch of stuff. It was probably m… m-something, memory-stuff. Stuff he collected and had memories of or something. Howie had a few of those, but mostly it was horses.

Henry hummed and swung his legs off the edge of the bed.

The boy caught himself in a yawn and shook his head. Man, when was Red going to come back around? Was he still looking in the board room or security or something? Following the trash chute? Nah, that would be silly. Henry never took the straight shot; he could be followed too easily. Switching escape methods mid-escape was always the smart plan.

Henry jerked awake as he felt himself falling. Mmm… well, maybe he could lay down for a little while. He wouldn’t need to wait long. Yeah, he’d been standing for a while and then did the whole escape thing. So maybe he could lay down for just a little while.

Henry decided to flop down on the bed, pulling Red’s hat up so he wouldn’t bend it. The light was on, but with Red’s hat basically covering his face, the light bulb was null so to Henry, it was dark. He barely registered a pair of footsteps pass, stop, and then continue.

The kid jerked out of his half dreams as the door opened. He winced as the light rushed in to invade his eyes when the hat was taken off his head. Red set his hat back on his own head and fixed Henry with an unamused stare. Henry sat up and signed, “ _Now you have to go to bed._ ”

Red let out a small sigh, the hard look dissolving a little. “Kid, don’t steal from other Clan members. It’s past your bedtime.”

“ _Your bedtime, too,_ ” Henry put in.

“It is not,” Red stated. “Now, come on. Get to bed.”

Henry shook his head. “ _Why do I have to go to sleep, and you get to stay up?_ ”

“Because I’m working. Kid, I let you stay up with us.”

Henry hmphed. Nope. Henry was right and Red was wrong. He was just going to have to admit it.

“Jesus,” the man grumbled. “You’re really gettin’ on my nerves, Henry.”

Henry shook his head, struggling to muffle a smirk.

“Out. Get back to your room and go to bed. Now,” Red ordered, authority clear in his heavy, deep voice.

Henry shook his head again. He could be bossy all he wanted, that wasn’t going to work on Henry, no way. He made a point to ignore authority in the past, why stop now?

Red grabbed him by the scruff, dragged him out of bed, and set him down on floor. “Henry, I mean it. _Now._ ”

Henry turned on him and signed, “ _I don’t want to._ ”

“Tough. You’re still waking up early.”

Henry narrowed his eyes. “ _If I go to sleep, I still wake up early, right?_ ”

“Yes. I’ll hear no complaining.”

The boy thought for a long moment. “… _okay. Fine._ ”

“And no tricks,” Red crossed. “If you leave your room a _minute_ before you’re supposed to get up, you’re going to be in way more trouble than you’re in right now.”

“ _Fine._ ” Heh. He could work with that.

Henry slipped into his day clothes, grabbed his Gameboy, and crept outside. The halls were still empty and quiet. Henry knew Red didn’t go to bed when Henry did. So, the boy, technically not breaking the rules set down on his bedtime, snuck into Red’s room, snatched his hat off a hook in the wall by his bed, and snuck back out.

He started to open Reginald’s door, but decided against it. The man was an incredibly light sleeper. He’d wake up the second the door opened, maybe even before if Henry was a little loud in getting to it. Henry, donned in his amazing new hat, strolled down the hallway into the cafeteria.

Henry sat in his usual seat, playing with his Gameboy. He’d charged it to full all night, so he could play with it, now. He pushed his hat back up as it tried to fall over his face again. He heard footsteps and looked up. People started to filter in as the morning went on. Two people he recognized were among the first. Henry grinned and waved, the hat falling over his eyes again as he did so.

The light of the cafeteria returned to him in earnest as the hat was snatched off his head. “Stop,” Red stated.

Henry grinned and shook his head.

Red looked to Reginald, who walked right past him, eyes dull from sleep and focused on the other wall, where people swarmed a few coffee makers.

Henry started to go back to Gameboy, only to find it gone as Red took it. He pouted and looked back at Red, but the man was already walking away, stuffing the game in his pocket. Henry crossed his arms on the table and set his chin in his hands. He was still right.

* * * * *

Henry sat on his recently made bed, holding up a string of pearls. He’d already had breakfast, but Reginald couldn’t stay with Henry for long and had to go with Chief Terrence again. Red had quietly followed. So, Henry decided to go to his room. Now he twirled the pearls in the light, looking for an angle that didn’t show off his pretty bauble. They _tinked_ each time they hit each other. Thrilled he couldn’t find a disappointing angle with them, he picked up his backpack and shuffled through it. His ring clicked against the other rings he had. With some indecision, he tried on the others. Henry frowned and shook his head and gently put them away again. He liked the pretty diamond set in a silver band. Though fond of the inscribed gold one and fancifully carved orange one, the silver band with a bluish diamond looked the best on him, in his opinion.

_Knock-knock-knock!_

Henry squeaked and nearly jumped out of his skin. Stashing the backpack under his bed, he pressed the button by his door, opening it. There Red stood in the hallway, alone. “Henry,” he stated. He continued with sign language, “ _Reginald still has work he must do, now. I’m taking you--would you like to learn how to shoot?_ ”

Henry tipped his head a little. “ _Learn to shoot?_ ”

“ _Yes_.” Red signed a word Henry didn’t know. _“You’re old enough to learn and it’s an important skill._ ”

Henry probably didn’t have much of a say, did he? Though, Red _did_ ask. Adults liked to ask things, though. By “asking” Henry, they were really just telling Henry to do something but tried to make themselves look polite. Henry nodded and left his room, sending a glance back to make sure he hadn’t left anything on his bed. Nope. His bed was clear.

Red grabbed a long box from his room on the way to a pod that took them out into the desert. The place they entered was just a long range with some targets--anything from wood to paper--at the end. “Now, Henry. Guns are dangerous tools. You should never point one at anyone you’re not willing to shoot. Understand?”

Henry nodded.

“What do you understand?”

Henry signed, “ _Don’t point at people you don’t want to shoot._ ”

“Do you know why guns are dangerous?”

“ _They hurt people._ ”

“They can,” Right agreed. “You could hurt or kill a person with a gun.”

Henry’s eyes went wide. “ _Why?_ ”

“It may be necessary. But only as a last resort. We’re not brutes. Understand?”

Henry nodded.

“Now, this isn’t a _firearm_ , it shoots rubber bullets using air.” Red opened the box he was carrying and pulled out a BB gun. Henry recognized the weapon; he’d seen a few boys playing with them. Henry felt a sting in his shoulder and the back of his head at the memory.

Red knelt so that he and Henry were on the same level. He pointed to a little contraption near the trigger that looked a little like a black button poking out from behind it. There was a short hesitation before he rested the gun on the inside of his elbow. “This is the safety. It stops the gun from firing. Whenever you’re not using it, activate the safety.” He wasn’t looking at Henry as he spoke, but rather the object in his hands. “When you want to do it, press this button to undo the safety.” He clicked the little black button ringed red. It popped out the other side. “This shows the gun is ready to fire.” He looked to Henry.

Henry signed, “ _Okay. The safety stops it from shooting, but when it’s turned off it lets it shoot?_ ”

Red nodded and turned his attention back to the weapon. “However, you will still need to cock it. Cocking the gun will put the bullet in place in the chamber and the hammer ready. Got it?”

Henry tried to sign his answer, but found he drew a blank to what words he could use. James taught him sign language. He didn’t teach him about guns. Henry signed, “ _Safety stops it from shooting._ ” But what about the second part? He closed his hands into loose fists before himself and mumbled, his voice not nearly as clear or audible as Red’s. “Cocking it allows it to shoot.” He winced upon hearing his own voice.

Henry couldn’t talk, that was that. Besides, he hated his stupid voice, so it was probably for the better. He didn’t need to or want to, but even when he did need to, he couldn’t. Fear would choke him into silence, no matter how silly or baseless the fear was. Any time he tried, the words would get stuck in his throat and his mind would go blank. People scared him. But Red didn’t scare him.

“Correct. Now, this is the muzzle,” Red went on as if nothing was different or amiss. “Put your hand here when you’re holding it.” Red went through and described all the pieces of the gun and what they did or what he should do with them. Henry was constantly quizzed on what he had just been told. Most of the quizzing was over something they just went through, but occasionally Red would pull forth a question from earlier about anything from safety to parts to the use of a gun. Henry couldn’t help but fall back on signing, but in respect he tried talking. Despite his mumbling being low enough to be hardly audible to himself, Red never asked to have him repeat himself.

Red stood up, keeping the muzzle pointed down but not touching the dirt. “Whenever you’re not using it, keep it pointed down. Why is that important?”

“If you point it at someone, you could hit them on accident.”

“Yes.”

Henry quickly went on, “But how would you do that? Accidentally shoot someone?”

“The gun could misfire, you could press the trigger if you hold it wrong, something could jostle the gun and set it off, or there could be something wrong with the gun itself,” he explained. “Plenty of ways it could go wrong. That’s why you gotta control it. You’re in control of the tool, not the other way around.”

Henry slowly nodded. That made sense. “But why would you use a gun if it’s broken?”

Red didn’t answer at first. When he did, his words were deliberate. “It can be hard to tell at times if something’s not working properly. Take out those glasses.”

Henry looked into the box, where two pairs of orange tinted safety glasses were settled. Henry held out one for Red and put on the other pair. Red went on, “Now, hold this.”

Henry reluctantly obeyed, being very sure to keep the muzzle of the gun pointed down. It wasn’t as heavy as he anticipated. He shifted his hands so that he mimicked Red’s grip. Suddenly, the gun was huge, and it was heavy. It was ready to go off at any minute, ready to hurt himself or Red or--

“Calm. You’re in control, not it,” said Red.

Henry meekly nodded.

“Now, keep your finger on the trigger guard until you’re ready to shoot. Right now, you’re just holding it.” Red gestured to the sliver of hard material in front of the trigger, like a thin shield. Henry rested his index finger on that, finding it much easier than trying to bunch all his fingers on the grip. “See? You’re holding the gun safely, and nothing bad has happened.”

Henry took a deep, shaky breath. That was true. Red didn’t hurt anyone or anything while holding it safely. Henry hadn’t hurt anyone holding it the way Red instructed him to. It didn’t go off and hurt anyone. Yeah, it was okay. Guns hurt people. But they weren’t hurt?

Red pointed down the range to the target directly before them in the shape of an oversimplified dartboard. It was pinned to a pole with a wooden, squared fork to keep it flat and straight, but the paper-like material still shivered in the wind. “Now, that’s our target.”

Henry inspected the target. It was just a bunch of unlabeled black and white rings with an obvious center. The rings reached up to touch the edges, but just barely.

“First, the chamber is empty. For a BB gun, flip it over, pull the trigger guard out toward the muzzle, and then snap it back into place.” Henry did as he was told, concentrating hard on the weapon as he cocked it and returned to holding it in the correct grip. Wow, that was… rather difficult. The weapon was huge, at least relative to Henry, and it took effort to essentially pull it apart and snap it together again.

“To aim, hold the gun up so you can look down the barrel. Just don’t hold it too close to your face.”

Henry looked up as Red spoke and then carefully obeyed, holding the BB gun up so it was pointed at the target, and he could see the target just above the tip of the weapon.

“BBs are airsoft; they don’t use gunpowder or metal bullets. So, they don’t have the powerful recoil of a firearm. You still don’t want to hold it too close to your face,” Red explained. “Now, when you’re ready, move your finger from the trigger guard to the trigger and squeeze.”

_Pop!_

The BB gun went off, cutting a hole straight through the paper up near the top left corner. Henry squeaked and let go of the BB gun. Only, he found that it started to fall after he let go and he couldn’t let it fall, it could misfire or something so he scrambled to get a hold of it again, fumbling with the inert weapon in his arms. Red caught the BB gun in one hand and took a hold of Henry’s shoulder in the other. The kid froze, hardly daring to breathe.

Red gently took the weapon from him and let go. Henry dropped his hands and looked away. _God, he was so stupid. It just hit the target, it didn’t even make a loud noise or move that much or anything. He was just a baby. None of the other boys had been scared of it._

“Henry, I understand holding a gun can be scary,” Red stated, his voice as neutral as ever. “You don’t need to learn everything at once. Are you ready for a break?”

Henry nodded without looking up.

“Alright. Help me put this away, then.” Red took off his safety glasses and held them out for Henry to take. After Henry put his and Red’s glasses in the box, the BB gun was packed away and Red plucked the box from the ground. He checked his watch. “We need to get back to the airship.”

Henry followed him back to the pod that would take them back to the aerial home. The trip wasn’t long. So, Henry followed Red back to put away the weapon in Red’s room. He picked up a clipboard from his desk and moved out, Henry following. “Kid?” He prompted, stopping. “I’ve got work to do.”

Henry nodded and looked away. Yeah, okay. He could go back to his room.

“But if you want to follow me, you can?”

The kid looked back up at him. He signed, still a little shaken, “ _I can?_ ”

“Er, yes,” Red admitted.

“ _Thanks!_ ” Henry signed, grinning.

“Okay.” Red continued moving. Henry stayed at his side. Well, adult work stuff was kind of boring. But it was better than being stuck in his room all day. Besides, he liked traveling with Red. He didn’t bother Henry with questions for the sake of asking questions and he didn’t try to force Henry to talk--or engage in conversation in general--nor did he feel the need to talk just because. He didn’t hold Henry’s hand or touch his head or anything. Henry didn’t understand why “normal” people did that sort of stuff.

“ _I don’t know,_ ” was Red’s answer when Henry asked. He’d stopped speaking aloud as well. That made sense. He should probably ask Reginald, since he was very touchy and talky and stuff. Where was he, anyway? It wasn’t like Henry _expected_ him to always be around, but it would be kind of nice. Not that Henry liked Red any less! Spending time with Red was nice. But maybe spending time with Reginald or Chief Terrence would be nice, too.

Red needed to fetch something from his room, so Henry offered to get Reginald. After all, Henry knew where Reginald was and if Red stayed, he knew where Red was as well. Henry made his way down the halls to where he knew Chief Terrence’s office resided.

 _“…don’t have much time.”_ This was Reginald. His voice was quiet through the door.

 _“We have a few minutes. Oh, don’t say no to me, Reggie-Veggie, we’ve both had a long day.”_ Even as a coo, Terrence’s voice was a bit louder and bolder, though not raised. Was Reginald just being quiet?

Well… if they were busy… but, no, Henry promised Red he’d at least talk to him.

Whatever Reginald said in return, Henry didn’t quite hear as he knocked. He half-hoped he wasn’t heard. At least then he’d have an excuse to go back to Red. Though, he half-hoped he was heard as he knew that would be a silly excuse.

The door to Chief Terrence’s door opened, revealing Reginald. The man raised his eyebrows. “Henry! I didn’t expect to see you here.” He tipped forward to look down the hall. “Where did Red go?”

Henry signed, “ _He needs to get something from his room. He wanted me to find you._ ”

“Ah. I understand that. Thank you, Henry. I’d nearly forgotten the time.” He turned back to the chief, who sat at his desk. “I apologize, Terrence, but I did promise Henry I would meet him after Red brought him back.”

“Understandable,” was Chief Terrence’s reply with a flippant wave of his hand. “I did hear you say that yesterday. Have a nice time, Reginald, Henry.”

With that, Reginald left the man’s office and walked to the Living Quarters, shoulders squared and head up. As Reginald left, Henry glanced back in time to see Chief Terrence watching Henry with a less-than-pleased look. Henry patted Reginald’s wrist. Reginald looked down. Henry signed, “ _Are you okay?_ ”

Reginald blinked. “What do you mean?”

“ _You sounded upset?_ ”

“You heard that?” Henry didn’t recognize the look on his face.

“ _Well, not really. Just the end. I’m sorry. I didn’t try to._ ”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Reginald looked ahead again. “Though it is very rude to listen in on other people’s conversations, Henry. Terrence and I are friends, but we have our… disagreements. He’s still my boss, however.”

“ _You and Red sometimes disagree._ ” When Reginald didn’t react to Henry, he patted Reginald’s wrist to get his attention and repeated the line.

“Red and I are equals on almost every level. I’m Red’s superior, technically speaking. But only in the way that I’m higher in the line of power in case something happens to the chief,” Reginald explained, his words starting off a little slow as if phrasing his words in a way Henry would understand. Henry wasn’t _dumb_ , he could understand that! “It’s easier to come to a mutual agreement. But I’ve known Terrence longer than I have Red. It doesn’t upset me that much; I know he means no ill will. I know that. He’s a good man.”

It didn’t take long for them to meet up with Red, who stood outside of his own room. He somehow managed to spot them first. Red was always doing funny things like that. It’s like he could hear and see way better than he should be able to. He rarely talks, and he’s always looking around. Maybe that’s why. Henry was kind of good at looking out for people, though that mostly stemmed from his desire not to get caught, either from him doing something bad or just not wanting to be with people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a more light-hearted note, my mom's dog is terrified of the world due to a neglectful hoarder/breeder but is super attached to her. She could scream and yell at him and he'd be unphased. (She doesn't normally but when he takes a mud bath and tracks mud in the house OOF) A kid walks by and he (literally) craps himself. With Red (RHM in the future) being as intimidating as he is and Henry being as anxious, I thought it would be a cute dynamic.


	7. Chief

Henry didn’t _want_ to wake up. He woke up nice and warm and curled up in his blankets. It was quiet and dark, and he was pressed up against the wall and he liked that. The silence in the room was broken as the bed near his shuffled and a blanket was pulled back. Then the light was on. Henry flinched at the brightness. Oh, he didn’t _want_ to wake up.

Still, he was awake, and the light was on and he had to get up.

By the time Henry pulled himself out of bed, Howie was no longer there, and the bathroom door was shut. It wasn’t this way for long as Howie, changed into a new outfit, left the bathroom. “Good mornin’!” he hummed, his voice dragging a little in leftover sleep.

“ _Good morning_ ,” Henry signed, the words half hidden by the clothes he held over his arms.

Howie hummed and narrowed his eyes. “Could ya say that again?”

Henry blinked and repeated the line, this time pushing the clothes back on his arm to make his hand visible.

“That’s… somethin’ morning. Ah’m assumin’ good morning?”

Henry grinned and nodded.

Howie laughed. “Hey! Sign language ain’t so bad. Ah don’t know much of it, though. Mind teachin’ me some?”

Henry nodded again.

“Well, on the way to breakfast. How about that?”

“ _Okay!_ ” Henry made sure the sign was visible, a little exaggerated if he said so himself.

Howie copied the gesture, just a little exaggerated, but also not as clean. Henry held up two fingers with the tip of his thumb between his index and middle finger. Howie copied him. Henry nodded and then went back to holding his hand in a circle. When Howie was on the same page, he turned his hand from a circle into the second letter, “K.”

“ _OK,_ ” Howie signed, focused intently on the simple word. Henry grinned and nodded and went to the bathroom to change.

Henry met quite a few people while living on the airship. He quite like being around Red and Reginald, but Reginald reassured him that he would be doing better learning from other people. He didn’t see Terrence as often, but when he did, it was because Henry was with Reginald. They still took him out on occasion for practice, but now Reginald mostly let him go with other people to learn what they did. Matilda was happy to have him around, though she couldn’t understand a word he tried to tell her. So, she mostly asked him “yes” or “no” questions or other things from which she could infer the answer. She taught him a lot about _disguise_ , or how to allow himself to hide in plain sight. Being quick and clever was good, but for nothing if someone caught a good look at his face, after all.

Then there was Geoffrey Plumb. He was pretty nice. He had a hard time seeing, so he couldn’t understand Henry, either. But he did teach Henry about what he did: patrolling and security. He was the first one to respond to alarms. He knew how to disable, enable, and reset all the alarms on the ship and had keys and passwords to locks and safes. Another part of his job, which was informally tacked on after years of working as a Toppat, was to investigate or break up fights. Scraps were rather scarce and even the ones that did occur were just loud and eventually solved themselves. There was one that escalated into a physical fight, but Geoffrey and a few other people pulled them apart. Reginald and Red, who were closer than Chief Terrence at the time, took over the investigation of the quarrel.

Henry met Thomas Chestershire through Geoffrey. The two were friends, but their work never crossed paths with Thomas being in the Bridge. Thomas was nice to him. In fact, Thomas was thrilled to have Henry around. Since he knew how to understand Henry, Henry was a little more excited to be around him, too. He taught him more about pickpocketing, something Thomas did before being promoted to his current position. Henry was doing very well, he had said, and one day he’d be able to run his own heists! For now, Henry shouldn’t be allowed within six feet of even the smallest one but learning about what they were couldn’t hurt.

It was about three weeks into his life as a Toppat when he heard a quite familiar Jersey voice behind them.

“Reginald, Red, it’s nice to see you,” Chief Terrence announced, stopping the trio as they passed near the path to the Bridge. “And you, too, Henry.”

Henry nodded. Reginald said, “It’s good to meet you, too, Terrence. Was there something you needed?”

“Yes, actually.” Chief Terrence’s smile fell a little. “Slice’s team got injured. The auto-pilot on the ship is acting finicky, so I need you two to figure out what happened while I fiddle with it.”

Reginald nodded. “Of course! Yes. Where did you say they were?”

“They should be in the Med Bay by now. Eeeh… before you go,” Chief Terrence put on a look of concern. “Would it really be wise to bring Henry over there? I know things like that could get scary for a kid.”

Reginald glanced at Henry. “Oh, right, well--”

Terrence waved his hand. “Why don’t I take him for a little while?”

“Ah, well, thank you,” was Reginald’s reply. Henry didn’t quite like how mechanical Reginald’s voice started before smoothing out. “You don’t need to. Matilda said she’d be happy to take him on afternoons if something comes up.”

“Matilda?” Chief Terrence echoed. “She’s not on the ship today, is she?”

Reginald frowned. “Right. She said something about family. Well… alright. Henry, do behave. We’ll be back soon.”

Though Reginald left, Red was a little slower, throwing a subtle, dark glance at the chief as they went. Chief Terrence probably didn’t see this, as he now focused on Henry. Henry could barely keep himself from following the two.

“Come on, Henry. Don’t be shy, I won’t bite,” Chief Terrence hummed with a short laugh. “I’ll even show you a little bit about steering the ship. How does that sound?”

Henry nodded. “Okay.” Henry was good at saying that word. He followed the chief forward, to the Bridge, hands in his pockets. He needed to know to say that word. Mrs. Bloodworth might not know if he knew something, otherwise, and she made sure he knew he needed to know things, especially what she was saying.

“Reginald says a lot of very good things about you,” Terrence commented as they walked. “And I heard no less from anyone else who talks about you. You know, I knew Reginald and Red since they came aboard the ship. I actually recruited Reginald and was with Sir Wilford IV when he recruited Red.” His chipper look fell a little upon talking about the former chief, but the look was gone soon enough. “Red acted quite a bit like you.”

Henry tipped his head.

“Oh, yes. He hadn’t spoken a word, at least that I was aware of, for a very long time! Never even told us his name. Didn’t use signs or whatever like you do. But he was an extraordinary crew mate. Is, technically, he still is. It was fascinating, honestly. I have no doubt that with him teaching you, you’ll turn out well.”

Henry couldn’t help a little smile at that. Red was so amazing!

They passed through the Warehouse. “I do apologize for Reginald, however,” Chief Terrence went on. “He’s a brilliant man, and I’m sure he’s taught you some very useful things. But he is still quite busy. He has quite a few more responsibilities than Red.”

Henry signed. “ _I thought Reginald and Red were equals._ ”

Chief Terrence answered, looking down at Henry, “Partially. Reginald and Red are _close_ , but Reginald’s my second, my right hand. Yes, Red is smart himself, but he’s… he reminds me a little of Sir Wilford IV, come to think of it. Except perhaps not with the same leadership skills. _That_ is what Reginald has. Like I said, Red is a brilliant and competent man, but not in the same way as Reginald.”

Oh.

The chief went on, “Anyway, Reginald won’t be around you very often because of that. I know that must be tough, but you are a very good and talented kid. I’m certain that being able to tell him what great things you’ve been doing will make him happy. And maybe there’ll be times when he’ll be able to give you the attention you deserve.”

The door to the Bridge opened.

Inside, [Oldmin](https://sta.sh/018d4bwk43k0) and [Thomas Chestershire](https://sta.sh/0gigs1rbu5k) were at their stations, exchanging a few friendly words. Chief Terrence went back to the controls of the ship and started messing with a few levers and buttons. He explained what they all did--a few times depending on Henry’s answer--in a semi-simple manner. Henry struggled to understand what he was talking about and followed along, but it was useless. Chief Terrence talked in simple terms a _baby_ could understand but Henry got lost?

“Aw, don’t feel bad, kid,” Chief Terrence reassured him. “It takes a little while to get used to--even for an adult like myself--and you’re still too young to fly, anyway.”

Henry nodded, struggling to quell the disappointment in himself.

The door opened behind them. Henry perked up upon seeing Reginald and Red. He didn’t need to run to meet them, because they were by him and Chief Terrence quite quickly. Chief Terrence twisted around so he set his elbow on the back of the chair and looked back at them. “How did it go? Any casualties?”

Reginald shook his head. “No, none. They had some fairly extensive injuries, however, and not very much to show for it.”

“Well, isn’t that a pity,” Chief Terrence remarked. “What did the doctor say?”

Reginald thought for a moment. “Well, they should be good to go in a few days. But Slice especially shouldn’t be doing any rough work for a few weeks. Are the piloting systems good?”

“Yes!” Chief Terrence hummed. “My mistake; the systems had been a little finicky, but they’re better now. Do you want to double check?”

“Of course.”

Chief Terrence left his spot to allow Reginald to replace him and look at the systems and buttons and stuff or whatever all that was. Again, Henry didn’t retain a thing. So, disappointed, he stood by Red.

Red signed something. Henry looked up only to see Red’s hand, curled like a half moon with his thumb out, go down. Red repeated the sentence. “ _What’s wrong, kid?_ ”

Henry mumbled something unintelligible. Instead, he stayed close to him, struggling to look at Reginald and Chief Terrence rather than Red, who still tried to get his attention. “Kid,” Red finally said aloud.

Henry looked up at him, now a little more than slightly confused and quite aware of the attention they now had from Chief Terrence and Reginald.

“What’s wrong?” Red repeated.

Reginald sat up straight. “Oh! Did something happen, Henry?”

Chief Terrence looked at Red quizzically.

Henry shook his head. Still, he was asked a question and “no” wasn’t the answer. But what was he supposed to say? That he felt dumb for not getting what Chief Terrence was trying to teach him? “ _Don’t know_.” Being here was doing no good, though. He looked up at Red. “ _Are we supposed to do something?_ ”

Red made a noise resembling a chuckle, though the noise quickly lost its humor. “ _Yes,_ ” he signed. “ _We do have work to do._ ”

Reginald got up. “Right, right! Apologies, Chief, but we _were_ on our way to Records.”

“Gotcha, gotcha. Well, good luck. Feel better, kid. Remember, no one masters a thing quickly. Everyone needs practice,” was Chief Terrence’s reply.

Henry looked up at Red as they left. With Reginald no longer looking at him, Red sent a distrustful glare back at the door. Henry patted Red’s side and signed, “ _What’s wrong?_ ”

“ _What did he tell you?_ ”

Henry thought for a moment. “ _Well, he told me Reginald was going to be busy because he had more work to do than you. And he taught me a little about flying. But I wasn’t good at learning_.” The last few words tapered off as he barely concentrated on his signing by that point.

“You’ll get better,” said Red, his voice calm. “Flying an airship is too advanced for any kid.”

Henry huffed but said and signed nothing.

Henry was left alone that evening. Howie was happy to learn more about sign language, and in exchange teach more about controlling the emotions he showed.

* * * * *

The next day, Henry and Howie finished their chores rather quickly. Howie buzzed the entire time they worked. “Mr. Rich said he was takin’ me out to a ranch ta ride a few horses!” he claimed, his voice unable to decide between a single tone or octave. Henry’s dish washing chore took longer than whatever Howie did, but he still ended up having some extra time. Well, Reginald and Red would be okay seeing him, right? Yeah! …well, maybe. But it’s fine. Like Chief Terrence said: Reginald was busy, but he was still proud of Henry. Right? Yeah. Maybe he’d find them at Chief Terrence’s office? Even if he didn’t, Chief Terrence might be there, and he could point him in the right direction.

Henry took a deep, shaky breath. Alright, Henry! Calm down! You’ve been here for a while. It’s okay to go up to Chief Terrence’s office alone, right? Well, he’d need to since he didn’t know where Red or Reginald were. So, steeling himself, he strode up to the shut door of the office. Before he could hold his hand up to knock, he heard two familiar voices within.

“ _…told you, things are more complicated now, and I simply don’t have the_ time _._ ” Reginald’s voice was strained.

“ _You don’t have the_ time? _What else are you doing with your time, Reg? Doing Terrence’s work for ’im?_ ” Red puffed.

Henry tried to back off, he did. He knew eavesdropping was rude, but… w-well, he wasn’t _really_ spying or eavesdropping or something. He was just waiting in the hall for them to come out. It wasn’t _his_ fault it was easy to hear them. Given, he had to be _super_ close and he did have to really listen, but that was beside the point.

“ _I’m not doing his work for him. Yes, I have plenty to do, it just comes with the job._ ”

“ _You’re deputy, not Chief. ’Alf the stuff I see you doing is chief’s work._ ”

“ _Like?_ ”

“ _Setting the auto-pilot on the ship, organizing high-risk, high-reward heists, recruiting--for God’s sake, Reg! Do I have to go on?_ ”

“ _Look, the chief needs my help, and I will help him. He’s busy and it’s been hard on him since Ch--Sir Wilford IV’s death. Which was only five months ago, now. If you think that’s immoral, I don’t know what to tell you._ ”

“ _It isn’t_ immoral _. I’m reminding you that you have_ different _responsibilities, now, too. You adopted a kid two months ago. You aren’t there for ’im!_ ”

“ _Red, we’ve been over this. The plan was to have the kid raised among the Clan, learning how to be a respectable Toppat. Howie was taken into the Clan not two years ago and though he hasn’t made a name for himself, he’s fit in faster and more easily than many of our other recruits._ ”

“ _Henry’s a_ boy _not a_ dog.”

“ _I know that, Red. He’s been doing well around here, hasn’t he?_ ”

“ _The boy’s scared. This is a new place with new people. He’s anxious enough as it is. What am I supposed to say when he asks me where you are? Why you aren’t around ’im?_ ”

“ _Doing my job._ ”

“ _And you can’t let the kid try and help out?_ ”

“ _No, it’s not kid’s work._ ”

“ _My job’s not kid’s work, either. Reg, let ’im follow you, give ’im something to do. For God’s sake_ try _, would you?_ ”

“ _Red, for love of--I’m not a_ father. _I don’t know how to be, and I never wanted to be, one. You_ know _this!_ _The plan was for him to be raised by the_ Clan _, as a_ Toppat. _Not just by me. I adopted him because it was my job as Terrence’s second to do the more important or delicate work._ ”

Okay, so, now it was kinda hard to hear them. Especially since he moved away from the door.

“ _What the_ fuck _, Reginald?_ ”

Henry jumped as he could hear Red’s shout from Henry’s place in the hallway.

“ _He’s eleven! An_ orphan! _Not some animal you can pick up off the street!_ ”

“ _I ran the plan through you!_ ” Reginald shouted back. “ _Don’t vilify me when you gave your own damn input!_ ”

“ _I was under the impression_ we _were raising him in the Clan. I didn’t think you were gonna just take a kid and set ’im loose in here!_ ”

“ _I wasn’t setting him loose. We already talked to Ivy, Harold, Chestershire--_ ”

“ _They’re your subordinates! They follow your word more closely than the damn chief’s! Of-fucking-_ course _they’re gonna give you the go ahead. They expect you to know what you’re doing._ I _expected you to know what you were doing!_ ”

“ _Of course I know what I’m doing!_ ”

“ _No. You_ don’t _. That kid deserves much more then you’re giving ’im! Take the damn papers._ ”

Henry heard something hit a desk. Henry bristled, clambered to his feet, and bolted. He’d made it to the entrance of the cafeteria before the door to Chief Terrence’s office hissed open. Whatever prior mission he had now forgotten, Henry rushed up the stairs and into his room. Howie wasn’t there, and he wouldn’t be for a while. Mr. Rich had taken the day off and they were probably riding horses like Howie had really wanted to. Mr. Rich loved Howie, and Howie loved him back. Henry knew that Reginald was really important and busy because of it. He knew that. He knew that no one wanted to take him home. Not after they met him. He knew that, too.

Henry tossed his shoes off the foot of the bed so they tumbled into the closed closet door. Sniffling, he curled up and wrapped his arms around his legs. What… was he supposed to do? He was already training really hard to learn how to do stuff and defend himself. If that’s what Reginald wanted him to do, and he was doing it… or maybe the problem was that he wasn’t doing it well _enough_. He was still really terrible with the BB gun because he was afraid of it even though he didn’t need to be. He still got caught sometimes trying to steal from people directly. He knew how to pick locks, but he was still really clumsy with them. So, all he needed to do was get really good at that stuff. That’s what Reginald meant by him becoming a proper Toppat, right? Being really good at stealing and lockpicking and stuff?

_Knock, knock, knock!_

Henry jumped at the noise. Who would be trying to talk to him _now?_ Well, who _ever_ wanted to talk to him when he was in his room, aside from Howie? Howie just walked in, because this was Howie’s room before Henry moved in and he still lived there. So, it had to be Red. But Henry didn’t want to talk to him, not now. He’d just think Reginald made him upset or something and then he’d be mad at Reginald and they’d fight again, and they were friends. Friends didn’t do that, right? Well, they sometimes did.

“Henry?” The deep, Australian voice confirmed Henry’s suspicions. Henry tried to call an answer, he really did, but his throat closed up and his stupid mind refused to think of anything to say. Red continued, “You here?”

Henry crawled under his blanket and threw it over himself. Nope. He didn’t want to talk, thank you. Maybe later, when he calmed down or something.

The door opened with a _hiss_ and in came Red, alone. “Henry?” he tried again, his voice barely a whisper. It was a little funny. Was he trying to get Henry’s attention or not wake him up? Henry kept his eyes closed. “Eh, alright,” Red conceded slowly. After another short pause, the man was gone.

Henry opened his eyes and looked back at the door. He really liked Red. Actually, he didn’t want to be alone. So, he hurried to put on his shoes and leave his room. He _just_ caught sight of Red leaving the Living Quarters. “I thought you were asleep,” Red commented, stopping.

Henry shook his head. “ _I’m awake. Where are you going?_ ”

“I’m goin’ to the medical wing,” Red said.

“ _Okay._ ” Henry stood by his side, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember your audience when splitting up the herd!
> 
> The sun is shining, flowers are blooming, kids like Henry should be out enjoying the nice day. Also, it's _really_ tough to get down the minutia of stuff when you're only thinking of it from a more clinical or professional angle.


	8. Grand Tour

“Red?” Henry asked aloud, his hands too busy holding the BB gun to be of any use speaking.

“Yes?” Red spoke as well, as Henry was looking down the barrel of the gun at the target. A few holes already poked through the upper left corner of the target.

_Pop!_

Henry didn’t even flinch this time! He cocked the gun, putting down the excitement that swelled up inside of himself. Instead, he went back to focusing on the target. “Am I going to school?”

“Yes.”

 _Pop!_ A box on top of the thing holding his target splintered but didn’t fall. “Why?”

“Reg said it’ll socialize you.”

“Okay.” After a slight silence, Henry asked, “Can’t you guys teach me?”

“We will,” Red stated. “You don’t go to public school to learn.”

Henry looked back at him. “What do you mean?”

“You learn to be with other people at school,” Red stated. “You learn what you need to at home. Stop.”

Henry, who had aimed at the box again, lowered the BB gun, activated the safety, and set his finger on the trigger guard. He looked up at Red.

Red stated, “You’re a Toppat. But you can’t let anyone else know. You can’t risk someone learning about where you live.”

“Why?”

“The Toppats are a clan of thieves, and if anyone finds out you’re one, you won’t go to any school without scrutiny--if they’ll let you in at all. You won’t be making the right friends and you will put us in danger. Understand?”

Henry nodded. _Put the Clan in danger. No. No, he couldn’t do that. If letting people know he was a Toppat would put the Clan in danger, then absolutely not._

“Good. Continue. You start in August and end in May.”

_A couple weeks, then? That was a good enough time frame._

* * * * *

Henry had always gone to public school. He walked from the orphanage to the bus stop going to the elementary school with the other kids and one or two of the ladies. However, every year he went to the same school with the same kids in Red Mesa, New Mexico. Today, Henry walked on hot, dusty cement after leaving the air conditioning of the red and shiny car. He approached a new school in a new grade level in a new state. The building before them, surrounded on two sides by parking lots clustered with cars and yellow buses, beaconed them with its air-conditioned chill.

Henry gripped the straps of his baby blue backpack tight. Light gleamed off the metal of the zippers in his new equipment. His old backpack stayed under his bed, threadbare and full to bursting. Henry stepped closer to Red, unable to keep his shaky fingers still and calm his fluttering heart as they approached the giant glass double doors. He silently cursed himself with every expletive he knew and learned on the ship--which tended to not be very extensive with Red around. Still, he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t slow down his racing heart or ease his tense muscles pulling him into himself like a turtle. Henry had been around, that was true. He learned all sorts of stuff following Red and Reginald and the others that Reginald wanted Henry to learn from. But they wouldn’t be here. Henry spent his entire life memorizing the school and all the kids and teachers and everything that went into it. He wasn’t _safe_ there, but he knew how to make himself safe. He knew where and when to hide. He knew what people to talk to and which people to avoid. He knew who did or didn’t talk to who. But this place? He didn’t know anything about it. He hardly knew its name.

Garret Junior High.

Henry swallowed and took a deep breath. No. He wasn’t in school right now. He was with Reginald and Red _preparing_ to go to school. That just meant he needed to scope out the building for his classes, get a physical copy of his schedule, meet a few people, maybe.

A [teenage girl](https://sta.sh/01h80whtb6az) walked out from behind the desk with a paper in hand. “Hello, sirs! Hello… Henry! I’m Alyssa. I’ll show you around the school and teach you a bit about it. You’re new, right?”

Henry nodded.

“Okay. Well, I don’t know how your old school worked, but here all students get to shine and be their best. Also, we don’t keep our personal things with us. You will have a locker with a lock assigned to you where you will put your things. You can access your locker before the first bell, before and after lunch, and after school. You will keep your backpack, books, lunch box, and other personal stuff there. The teachers don’t want students tripping over backpacks. Also, if you have any electronics on you, they should always be turned off and put away. Come on! I’ll show you to the cafeteria.”

Although they followed the girl, Henry still stuck close to Reginald.

The school was weirdly organized despite being sprawling and, at first glance, a little confusing to Henry. All the halls were quite similar, as were most of the doors to most of the rooms. When he got to his tip-toes to peek through one of the tall, thin windows showing the inside of the classroom, he found most of them empty but prepared as if ready for class to start at any second.

“This is the cafeteria,” Alyssa said, stopping and gesturing to the large empty room. Large, circular tables were folded and set up against the walls. In the front wall, there were a few doors that were closed, but marked as being for food lines. The left walls were mostly gone, replaced by some half walls and guard rails for descending stairs. “The tables are folded up most of the day, except breakfast and lunch. The lunch line starts in there. But if you already have lunch, you can sit down. All students are expected to stay at their tables unless grabbing food, dumping trays, or going to the bathroom until the bell rings.”

With that, she led them around to the other end of the building, to a set of double doors. “This is the bus stop. You’ll get your bus number from the Office, as all the buses have different routes. At the end of the day, you’ll gather here or preferably outside. If you’re not going on the bus but getting picked up, you can go through these doors and down the sidewalk. There’s a place for parents or guardians to pick up their kids. So, sirs, you’ll need to talk to the office and get to know some of the teachers so that someone on duty can recognize your car. We don’t want any students getting into the wrong cars! Also, you can park your bike or something over there if you have one.” She looked down at her paper. “Okay, let’s look for your classes.”

Henry had six different classes in total he needed to attend throughout the day: English, Reading, Math, PE, Science, and an elective of his choice, which turned out to be a Russian language class. The day prior, when looking at the school and the classes that it offered, Henry had chosen a language course.

Finally, thankfully, the tour came to an end and they were again at the office. Alyssa handed him his paper and went back to doing whatever she was doing behind the desk.

As they left the building and emerged into the warmth, Henry found the ability to breathe again. His hands hurt from gripping the straps on his backpack so hard and an annoyingly dull ache stole his arms.

“Henry, boy,” Reginald said as they made their way back to their car. “Relax.”

“ _Sorry_ ,” Henry loosely signed before going back to holding onto the straps of his backpack.

“Is… something wrong with the school?” Reginald shot a glance back at the building.

Henry shook his head. His eyes darted around, spotting multiple children and parents or guardians in the parking lot, entering or exiting vehicles or the building. _Just let them get back to the airship._

So, they did. They had no other business in the town. Henry had all the books, notebooks, pencils. and school supplies he would need. There was nothing Red or Reginald needed from town, either. But, as they left the school ground, Henry relaxed again and gained his old smile. School was scary, and it would continue to be scary. But as long as he was with Red and Reginald, he had nothing to fear.

Unfortunately, Henry _still_ wasn’t ready to go. He still had one last thing he needed to do.

“I’ve looked through your medical records,” said the doctor. “And you are up to date on most of your shots. However, you’re late for your HPV and Flu. So, this shouldn’t take long at all.”

Henry, sitting in one of the smaller rooms sectioned off by curtains, watched as he prepared some needles and vials by the sink. He glanced at Red--alone, as Reginald went back to find Chief Terrence--and signed, “ _Can you ask about the other chiefs? He said he was here for a long time._ ”

Red nodded and said, “Doc? Kid wants to know about the other chiefs you’ve known.”

“Hmm? Really? Well, I was here for a few of them, that’s true,” the doctor conceded. “Who do you want to know about?”

“ _J-A-C-K-S_ ,” Henry responded.

Red signed, “ _J-A-C-Q-U-E-S K-E-N-S-I-N-G-T-O-N._ ” He said aloud, “He wanted to know about Jacques Kensington.”

“Ah, yes. A good man, if eccentric,” said the doctor as he picked up his things and made his way back to Henry. “He was a very smart man, I heard. Relax this arm. This will pinch a little, but not for long. He lived for a while as chief, surprising considering his more… rough leadership.”

Henry kept his left arm on his lap as still as possible and looked away. The doctor washed off the place on his arm. Henry flinched at the sting of the needle, but it was gone soon enough. The doctor dabbed at it with a cotton ball and covered it with a bandage.

Henry asked, “ _Who was R-A-Y-N-O-L-D?_ ”

The doctor answered as he went to work getting the second, “The chief before Jacques was a great man as well. A fighter and rather mean, but he did what had to be done for the rest of the Clan. From what I heard, it was a shocking difference from the chief before him.”

Henry asked, “ _Who?_ ”

“Relax your arm, Henry. Randy Radman. He was a party animal, very flashy. Tons of people adored him, said it was a very fun and great time for the Clan. Unfortunately, the Great Depression hit, and not enough people _had_ wealth to steal. Then came World War II. Randy stepped down and allowed Reynaldo to take over. He led for a good while, and Randy stayed as a Toppat for a time after that. Interesting as he was the last leader to have a peaceful reign, or to step down peacefully. Reynaldo went missing, Jacques was killed by Sir Wilford IV in a duel, and Terrence took over when Sir Wilford IV was killed in a major heist.”

Henry flinched at the needle, but it was over quickly, and a bandage replaced it. He watched the doctor walk back to the sink, throwing away the used supplies as he did so, though not all of them went in the same place.

“ _Do you think Chief Terrence will do that?_ ” Henry asked.

The doctor let out a sigh. “Henry, I am not scared of Terrence or any other elite or leader before him. I’m not afraid to speak my mind. But there are some things you should _never_ talk about, including the circumstance of how leadership will be passed down or even when.”

Henry nodded and looked to Red, who nodded as well.

“Now, that should be it. Good luck at school tomorrow.” The doctor left. Henry followed Red as they made their way out of the Med Bay.

“Ya look spooked.”

Henry looked up from his lap, his legs swinging under him on his bed.

Howie hung up his hat and plopped down on his bed opposite of Henry. “School troubles already?”

Henry looked down at his lap again, hunching his shoulders. “ _Yes._ ”

“Hey, chin up, man! It’s not that bad!” Howie gave him a bright smile. “You’ll be the best and brightest and most popular kid in school in no time. No, one’ll have the guts ta mess with ya.”

Heh. Howie was so nice to him. Still, he couldn’t quell the stupid fear squirming in his gut. Why couldn’t he just stay on the airship and learn from Red and Reginald and everyone else? He didn’t need to go back to public school. It was dumb.

Howie’s smile faded as well. “Hey, little buddy. Look at me.”

Henry reluctantly raised his eyes. His bright blue ones met Howie’s brown ones.

“Yer the brightest kid Ah know. You’ll be jus’ fine.” He glanced around as if there could be anyone hiding in their room and leaned forward. “But if they do, just tell me who they are an’ Ah’ll make sure they never try it again.”

Henry chuckled, though the noise had no amusement in it. He made a motion similar to a nod. He managed to hold Howie’s gaze longer before letting it slip. “ _Thanks, but I can’t. I can’t let kids push me around anymore. But… I just…_ ” He scrubbed his face with his sleeve, cursing the dampness he now felt on his forearm.

Howie got up and set both hands on Henry’s shoulders. “Yer days at the orph’nage are over, Henry. Remember that. You’re stronger than ya think, much more than ya were a few months ago. You’re not alone, either.”

Henry hiccupped and nodded. “ _Yes. Thanks, Howie._ ”

Howie smiled and cocked his head. “Any time, little buddy. Wanna play some games on ma Gameboy?”

Henry perked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School. :P
> 
> _~~The next chapter has fourteen bios and I kinda wanna die. :)~~ _


	9. Bell Rings

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

Henry flinched, yanked from his dreams like a fish on a line. He opened his bleary eyes, watching the boy on the other side of the room. Darkness encompassed their room, interrupted by the pale light seeping through the bathroom door cracked open. Now, glowing green letters blinked on a rectangular device on the teen’s nightstand. _06:00._

The teen groaned and rolled over, pawing at the screaming device. His hand missed the large button on the top and instead pushed it over. The alarm clattered to the floor, cordless and out of reach. “Motherfucker,” Howie hissed, snaking himself further off the bed like a half-paralyzed cat until he found the source of his misery and slammed his hand onto the button, plunging them into merciful silence.

Henry, unable to sleep now that the alarm had thoroughly drilled its noisy call into his head, pulled himself out of his covers. He made it to his closet before Howie and grabbed his already prepared outfit and shoes and mostly full backpack. When he turned around, Howie was still shuffling through his closet. The bathroom door hadn’t moved.

After a few moments of waiting, Henry crept up to Howie and patted his wrist. Howie waved his hand vaguely toward the door. “Sure, li’l buddy, go ahead.”

Henry tipped his head. Regardless, he gathered up his clothes and walked into the bathroom. He sent one last glance at Howie, who’d set his head against the edge of his closet door and pulled out a messily folded outfit. Henry wrinkled his nose. Reginald had been very adamant that Henry fold his clothes properly lest they wrinkle, and Reginald made it very clear wrinkles in clothes were bad. He probably didn’t tell Howie about that. Or maybe they had been folded properly and Howie accidentally messed it up while gathering them?

Regardless, Henry got to go to the bathroom first.

When Henry emerged, dressed up in his day clothes and shoes and the ghost of mint toothpaste still tainting his mouth, Howie was still leaning on the closet door, his eyes closed and breaths even. Henry patted his wrist again. Howie jolted awake and looked around. “Hmm… oh. Hey, li’l buddy, yeah. Okay.” He went to the bathroom with his own clothes. The shower was quick to start.

Henry tossed his pajamas in the laundry basket, shut his closet door, and donned his backpack. As an afterthought, he knelt and looked under the bed. His old backpack, filled with his treasures, was still there. He looked over the little bobbles he’d been collecting. His prized possession, the bedazzled mirror-brush, sat lovingly on the top where it couldn’t get scratched or broken by his other objects.

The shower stopped.

Henry put away his things and squirmed out from under the bed. He remade his bed and stood by the door. Not a moment too soon, for Howie was out of the bathroom, his still damp hair brushed out and his pajamas tossed into the laundry basket. “C’mon, let’s get some breakfast.”

Henry followed Howie out the door, keeping note of his surroundings as he went. He didn’t want to spend his first day of school too foggy to understand what was going on, after all. Reginald, Red, and a third man met them in the hallway to the cafeteria.

“Good morning Howie, Henry,” Reginald greeted.

“Mornin’, sirs, Dad,” Howie returned, stifling a yawn.

Henry patted the flat back of his right hand against the flat palm of his left and set his left hand on the inside of his elbow, bringing his right up.

Howie looked at him. “That’s… good morning? Right?”

Henry nodded.

“Good morning to you, too,” Mr. Rich greeted. “Ready for a good day at school?”

Howie groaned, “Do we have ta go so early?”

“Yep,” Mr. Rich declared. “It’s our responsibility to get you two to school, and we can’t do that too much later.”

“We have our own jobs to do,” Reginald agreed.

They heard a rustle from the kitchen as they approached. When they opened the door, they found Mr. Thicc, dressed up and bringing ingredients out to cook. A few other people were further inside, but Henry couldn’t see them. “Huh? What are--oh, right. We have a few plates over there.” Mr. Thicc gestured to the counter close to the door before going back to the pantry.

What had been prepared, Henry found with a grin, was pancakes and eggs. With a bright “Thanks!” to Mr. Thicc, Henry took his plate.

“That box is yours, you two,” Mr. Thicc called without looking back.

Two boxes sat neatly next to the plates. One was soft and light blue with cars speckling its fabric surface. The other was hard and square and beige with a horse on its front. Henry took the blue one by the handle. Howie called, “Thank ya very much, Mr. Thicc!”

They said their greetings and thanks and made their way to the tables. Howie and Mr. Rich, who normally sat farther away in Table Four, was opposite them on Table One today.

Henry asked, “ _When are we coming home?_ ”

“Two twenty,” Reginald informed them. “Both of your schools end at roughly the same time.”

“ _Okay_.” Henry wasted no more time in turning his attention to his breakfast. Why did he have to eat proper this morning? It always took longer. But even earlier in the morning, Henry suspected Reginald would not be lenient. Oh well. He watched Mr. Rich and Howie talk, both more animated as Howie was now eating and Mr. Rich was partway through a cup of coffee. He put down the bad feeling that squirmed inside of him and glanced up at Reginald and Red. Henry was on Reginald’s other side this morning, by the edge. He started to sign something but stopped himself and went back to eating.

Howie and Mr. Rich rode with them to Nevada, but they split off from them fairly quickly. Henry didn’t think too much about it; Howie was a senior in high school and Henry was on his way to his first year of middle school. As they approached Henry’s school, there weren’t too many cars or people. A scant amount of kids arrived, but not too much to be overly noticeable. Still, Henry gripped the straps of his backpack tight and glanced semi-constantly up at Reginald and Red. Finally as they got near, Henry let go of his backpack and tugged on the cuff of Red’s jacket. When the man looked down, Henry signed, “ _Do I have to go?_ ”

“Yes,” Red responded. Reginald turned to his friend and then Henry. “It’s important.”

“ _Can’t I learn at the airship? Like I’ve been doing?_ ” Henry asked, stopping on the curb a few feet away from the door.

Reginald chipped in, “Henry, you’re going to be just fine. It’s school. You may not learn as much here as you do on the airship, that is true. However, it’s a valuable lesson in getting to know other students. Knowing how they act, who they are, what is socially acceptable in their circles. It’s just as important to learn about math as it is behavior. Remember: there is nothing you can’t handle. This is just one of the many obstacles you must overcome in life.”

Henry looked at the school again. He nodded and signed, “ _Goodbye._ ”

“Bye, Henry. We’ll see you after school.”

Henry lingered by the two for a moment longer before forcing himself to move forward, gripping the straps of his backpack hard.

He heard Reginald say as the two left, “Red, this is very important.”

“It was his peers that made him that way, school could make it worse.”

“I wasn’t joking about public school being important.”

“I never went.”

“Red, I swear to God, if you scare that boy more…”

They became too quiet for Henry to understand.

Henry walked through the semi empty halls until he got to his locker. A few of the lockers already had padlocks on them. Most of them were combination locks, but there were a few that required keys. Henry’s padlock--one Reginald had given him when they bought the rest of his school supplies--was a cylinder with six rings of letters and a metal arch. Henry took out his lock, a notebook, and a pencil. After a moment of thought, he took out a couple of books and shut the locker. Six letters was more difficult than the standard three he saw on others. Unless there were others with some knowledge of lockpicking and he managed to catch their negative attention, he shouldn’t have to worry.

Henry, hugging the books to his chest and grasping the edges in a tight grip, continued his walk. The door to his first period was shut. There were more kids in the hall, now. They were probably going to breakfast, as Henry knew that was being served. Henry had already eaten, so there was no reason for him to go. Instead, he skirted past the kids toward the exit. He knew he should be trying to interact with them. That’s what Reginald wanted him to do, after all. If Henry was going to be good at his job, he _would_ need to know this stuff about people. But… it was the first day of school. Maybe he could lay low for a little while, get used to this new school.

Henry yelped as a few boys, wrestling in the hall, their friends laughing and jeering, pushed him over. He landed on his back, grimacing as he hit the hard floor. He hadn’t been still a second before scrambling to get back, letting go of his books with one hand.

He backed into a pair of feet, which immediately stepped back. He looked up to find a kid his age holding out a hand, big green eyes round with concern. “Are you okay?”

Henry hesitantly took the boy’s hand and accepted his help. He brushed himself off and nodded. As an afterthought, he ran his fingers through his hair.

“That’s good. You, uh, look like you took a bad fall,” the boy hummed. “Uh, anyway, my name’s Charles. Who’re you?”

Henry spelled with one hand, “ _H-E-N-R-Y._ ”

Charles narrowed his eyes at Henry’s hand and then shrugged. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand that? Is that sign language? I think I’ve seen it before. But I don’t remember it.”

Henry nodded and went back to holding his books.

“Well, uh, I’ve never seen you before. Are you, um, new here?”

Henry nodded.

Charles brightened. “Oh, cool! I’m new here, too. You want to, uh, look around the school and see where our classes are? And, uh, my locker. Hah.” He tugged at one of the straps of his big green backpack. Though, Henry could only assume it was green under all the pins, stickers, and patches each square inch of the backpack held. They were mostly of flying machines--airplanes, helicopters, rockets--but some stars, generic monster or robot stuff, and even a few depicted a military of some sort. “So, what d’ya say?”

Henry nodded. They boy helped him, and technically walking with him to classes was socializing. Still, when the boy cheerfully gestured toward the hall and walked by his side, Henry erred on the side of caution and watched the boy’s every move. Kids were finicky, after all; they could be nice one minute and turn on anyone close to them the next.

“You have the same PE class as I do!” Charles announced, looking at the paper list of classes Henry handed to him. “That means we’ll have the same, um, lunch, too. Says here you’re, uh, taking Russian?” Charles tipped his head a little. “Why?”

Henry recalled hearing a few Toppats discussing the Wall and how many of the guards there spoke Russian. He shrugged.

“Okay. Well, uh, that’s really cool, you know. I know lots of people who know two languages, and it’s really cool! Um, I’m going into Band. My grandpa taught me a lot about playing the flute!”

Henry tipped his head. The flute, huh?

Charles grinned and handed Henry’s list of classes back to him. “Yep! Every year on the holidays he plays us songs he learned while stationed in South Korea and a few while in Vietnam.”

_Briiiiiing!_

The boys immediately looked up. The hallways grew crowded as students moved to their classes. Charles asked as they walked. “Do you want to meet up at lunch?”

Henry nodded and smiled right back. Charles’ enthusiasm was so infectious! With a pang, as they separated, Henry reminisced on his time before. No one was quite like Charles. No one not only had as much cheer but was able to put such cheer into Henry--on accident or on purpose. There was James, and he was cheerful, but he loved everyone like an older brother or uncle.

He walked straight into the classroom he was assigned. Henry stood by the door for a short time, scouting out which seat he would like. Eventually, he decided on one of the seats in the middle right. It wasn’t at the back nor the front or center. But it still had a good view of the whiteboard. Unfortunately, he sat behind a girl whose ponytail spilled onto his desk.

“Good morning, class!” their teacher called, pushing away from her desk, and approaching the whiteboard in the middle of the front wall. Introductions were first, with the teacher calling out a name and requiring a student to raise their hand to acknowledge it. But little was done beyond that before diving into the first lesson. As Henry couldn’t speak and she didn’t understand ASL, Henry was skipped over fairly quickly.

Henry paid attention as best he could. Despite speaking English, the class dragged on and on and each note he scribbled down took an eternity to finish, especially as the adult responsible for teaching them spoke faster than he could write.

He had to do well. After all, the other students were paying attention and writing and none of them seemed lost. If Henry was smart, he would get good grades. If he got good grades, it would show that he was smart, and Reginald and Red would be proud of that. It would give Henry a good image, and so it could give him respect, which Reginald would also like.

Henry nearly slapped himself as he felt his mind start to wander and went straight back to note taking.

After the bell rang, Henry had his notebook closed, mechanical pencil stuck in the rings of his notebook, and was out in the hall. He followed the path of posters and windows he remembered seeing with Charles until he was at his second class: Literature. How could they make a whole class dedicated to _just_ reading? Isn’t that what English was for? Or, for what English was? Or something?

Henry’s attention span started to thin in his literature class. Thankfully, math class took his attention, and he was concentrating as well as he ever could.

_Briiiiiing!_

Chairs squeaked and cloth snapped as children got to their feet and hurried out. Henry, carried away by the crowd, made his way to his locker, where his lunch box waited for him. He tossed his notebooks into the locker, locked it, and hurried to the cafeteria.

“Hey! Henry!”

Henry stopped and turned around. Charles met up with him, eyes bright in excitement. “Oooh! You brought your lunch? I, uh, didn’t. You wanna, um, wait with me in line or find a table or something?”

“ _I’ll stay with you,_ ” Henry signed and then pointed from himself to Charles to the line that grew in the cafeteria.

“Oh, cool! Yeah, it’ll only take a few minutes,” Charles said as they found a place in line. “Do you always bring your lunch?”

Henry shrugged. Probably. He’d never brought any lunch before, but maybe it would be different in the Toppat Clan.

Charles hummed. “Hey, so, uh, what kind of sign language do you know?”

“ _A-S-L_ ,” Henry answered and then spelled out the letters with his finger as if writing it on a whiteboard.

“ASL?” Charles echoed. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Hey, how’d you spell that?”

“ _A-S-L_?” Henry prompted. He closed his hand in a sort of half-fist, where his fingers were flush together, and his thumb pressed against the side of his hand.

Charles copied him. “Is this A?”

Henry nodded. He switched to a closed fist with his thumb over his fingers.

“S?”

Henry gave him another confirmatory nod. Keeping his other fingers in a fist, he held out his thumb and index finger out.

“L! Heh, _A-S-L_. Right?” Charles mimicked him and then went through the motion of all three letters in the correct order. After receiving confirmation from Henry, Charles asked, “Can you show me the alphabet?”

Henry hummed and closed his hand in a half fist with his thumb pressed against the side of his hand. He waited until Charles was copying him before going onto the next letter. They slowly went through the alphabet, Charles announcing what letter they were on until they went through to “Z”.

By this point, they’d reached the part in line where Charles had to hold onto a tray. “Hey, so, I know a few kids who are going here, too. They’re Konrad and Calvin, the Bukowski twins. Um, my parents know their dad. They’re a year older than us.”

Henry nodded and lost his smile. Charles pointed to a table near the far left of the cafeteria. Three kids were already there; two ginger twins and a girl with a long black ponytail.

Upon catching sight of them, Konrad waved, leading Calvin and the girl to notice them. “Hey!”

“Hey!” Charles reciprocated, taking his seat beside the boy. “Henry, this is Konrad, Calvin, and…?”

“Joan,” said the girl.

“Joan,” Charles finished. “Guys, this is Henry. He’s, uh, new here, too.”

Henry gave them a small wave.

The twin on the right beside Charles, Konrad, said, “Our parents moved here not long ago. But Joan said she’s been here for a while.”

Joan nodded. “I’ve lived in Boulder City my whole life. Where did you come from?”

Henry vaguely signed, “ _New Mexico_ ,” but said nothing.

Charles asked, “Where?”

Henry spelled, “ _N-E-W M-E-X-I-C-O._ ”

“New Mexico?” the boy parroted. Henry smiled and nodded. Charles grinned. “Ha! Yeah! Henry doesn’t really talk, so he uses sign language.”

“Is he deaf?” asked Konrad.

Charles shook his head. “No. Are you?” He turned back to Henry, who shook his head. “Okay. Well, uh, what classes do you guys have next?” Charles asked as he started on his lunch.

Henry had never been a fan of PE. It’s not that he wasn’t active. He loved exercise! But competitive sporty games, like dodgeball, weren’t always his favorite. He wasn’t good at throwing. He was decent at dodging, but that didn’t help when four kids teamed up on him.

Though, maybe things would be different here. Maybe kids wouldn’t all team up on him. That and he had Charles, so he’d have a teammate, at least. Unless they were put on separate teams. Henry’s aim was better with his BB gun, so maybe that would help with his throwing?

Regardless, Henry put away his lunch box, grabbed his notebooks, and ran with Charles to the gymnasium.

PE was standard exercise. After they went into the locker room and changed into fitness clothes, something that they could wear that wouldn’t affect their normal clothes, they ran laps. Charles ran by Henry, somehow as energetic as ever and not at all failing in energy like Henry, who wasn’t used to prolonged episodes of intense exercise. It’s not like he didn’t move too much during the day, but a lot of his physical activity came from walking around the airship or city.

After the coach blew on his whistle to stop this absolute waste of time and energy, they gathered together and got to introduce themselves. _Oh no. Why?_

The girl beside Charles said cheerily, “My name is Cassandra! I’m in sixth grade and love to paint. I hope to become an artist.”

Charles grinned and said, “My name is Charles! I’m in sixth grade and love to fly R/C planes and helicopters and stuff. I want to be a pilot when I grow up.”

When a pause met his words, Henry looked around and found the coach’s expectant gaze on him. “Henry?”

The boy swallowed and tried to speak, but nothing came out and he retreated into himself. Charles chipped in, “His name’s Henry, and he’s in sixth grade, too.”

Attention was successfully diverted as they went on to the next student.

Unfortunately, they had time after introductions for more class. Push-ups and jumping jacks it was.

The coach’s final whistle couldn’t come soon enough. Henry, huffing and puffing, followed Charles, who had started sweating, but otherwise looked no worse for wear, to the boy’s locker room.

But, hey, science class was after PE. That brought his mood right up! Half of that class was also introductions, but thankfully it was only names and just whatever fun fact they had about themselves. Their teacher didn’t linger too long on Henry. A a

His World Language class had the most… interesting start of them.

“До́брый день. Проходи́те, сади́тесь.” This was the first thing he heard his teacher say.

Henry glanced around at the other kids, some still standing, all confused.

“Good afternoon. Come in, sit down,” their teacher translated, her accent rather thick. “Come, now. Sit, sit. We have much to do.”

Henry sat down near the middle left, his notebook on the desk and pencil in hand.

“First, we learn alphabet.”

What kind of hieroglyphic scribbles were on the board? Henry had never seen such a thing, though the more advanced math symbols and equations sometimes looked a little like what was on the board. But he eventually understood those. Not only did she put more than twenty-six symbols up on the board, but some of the English letters she stuck under them were weird as well. Under those letters or cluster of letters, she would write a word in English and in Russian and underline a certain letter or two.

“А а” was written above “A a” with “what” below with the “a” underlined and below that and “какой” even further with the “a” underlined. “This is softer ‘a,’” Mrs. Tchaikovsky went on. “Say it with me. Ah. Wh-ah-t.”

Cautiously, some of the students parroted what she said.

“Whole class. Wh-ah-t.”

Slowly, the entire class began to participate.

“Good. Б б.” This one had two translations: “b,” like “beat” or “club,” and “p,” like “pigeon.” Why would one letter have two different ways of saying it? …well, Henry supposed there were some letters in English that did that. “C” could be pronounced like “k” or “s.”

Henry jumped as the bell rang above them.

“До свидания. Goodbye. Be good, class!” Their teacher called after the fleeing students.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles, where've ya been~?
> 
> I... might be beginning to regret making a bio for all the background characters... a little... _I normally complete the bios at least the day prior if not once I name them, but holy guacamole only, like, one or maybe two of these guys actually come back out of the fourteen in this chapter._


	10. Self Defense

Getting around the crowd entering the buses was a bit of tricky business. He wasn’t the tallest kid there, and everyone seemed to assume everyone near them was going to their bus. But he was eventually able to squirm his way through the crowd and out to the other side where he shot off to where the cars gathered.

He stood beneath the shadow of the school as he looked for his car. Black, white, blue, beige--many different colors and shapes inched and then drove past. Finally, red came into view. Red in a familiar shape.

Henry walked as quickly as he could past the other children waiting to be picked up. After confirming the driver was indeed Red, Henry hopped into the backseat, holding his backpack in his arms and quickly buckling his seatbelt. “ _Hello, Reginald, Red!_ ”

“Good afternoon. You seem calmer than this morning,” Reginald remarked.

Henry nodded.

“Did you meet anyone?”

Henry nodded again. “ _Charles. He’s really nice._ ”

The Toppat second-in-line hummed. “Charles, huh? See, Red? It has hardly been a day and he’s already meeting new people. There was nothing to worry about.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Red scoffed.

Henry asked, “ _Do you still have work to do?_ ”

Reginald nodded. “Yes, Henry. We are still quite busy. Do you have any homework with you?”

Henry shook his head.

“I thought not; it would be odd of any teacher to assign children homework on the first day of school,” Reginald commented. “Now, I was just talking with Mr. Plumb. He said he still has a few things to teach you about the airship…” Henry listened, but couldn’t put down his disappointment.

Charles was quite nice to Henry. Every day he greeted Henry with a “hello” and announcing what day it was in sign language. It was messy and sometimes he reverted to finger spelling, which he also messed up a little on a few times, but he was trying. He could understand more of what Henry had to say. Henry found it difficult to practice his Russian in sign--he considered RSL but that would be a lot to learn at the same time--but that was fine because it was mostly on paper, for now. Red picked him up every day, even if Reginald couldn’t quite make it. A couple of times, Howie came by from the high school to pick him up.

“ _What is it like?_ ” Henry signed when they got into the pod.

Howie, having finished typing in their destination and sitting down, gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean, li’l buddy?”

“ _You came from a ranch, right? What did you do?_ ”

Howie hummed. “Oooh! Yeah, Ah lived on a ranch fer a spell. B’fore Ah was adopted inta the Toppats. It was incredible! Worked with horses, mostly, but they had a few chickens and goats and a dog. A lot a’ their horses were mostly fer trail ridin’, but they also loved ta goto the rodeo and even participate, so Ah did that sometimes, too.”

“ _What is it like?_ ”

“Which one?”

“ _Both!_ ”

“Hah! Well, horses are great. Gotta be careful, ’cause if ya spook one, it can mess ya up pretty bad. But they’re generally gentle giants.”

Henry followed Howie as the teen talked about his experience with horses and the rodeo. All the lights and the noises and excitement of a rodeo; all the fun and calm of a simple horseback ride down an obscure trail.

“The ranch Ah lived in had a horse; beautiful appaloosa mare. She was jus’ the sweetest thing. Used to spend all day ridin’ her down the trail, helpin’ with her care. She was ma show horse an’ ma best friend. The lady of the house wanted me ta take her purebred, award-winnin’, pompous American Saddlebred worth more than Ah’ll ever be out to competitions, but that stallion was way too stubborn an’ proud fer my taste.”

Henry tipped his head. “ _What happened to them?_ ”

“Nothin’,” Howie said, his voice losing its cheer. “What happened ta me. Man a’ the house died and left Appleblouse an’ a few things ta me in his will. Lady of the house didn’t like that one bit. Ah was just an orphan they found huddled in their stable one rainy night. She got me kicked out right quick and told me if she ever saw me again, she’d call the police. Wasn’t too long aft’r that Mr. Rich found me.”

Henry frowned. “ _That is really mean._ ”

Howie scoffed. “That’s one word fer it.” He stopped by the door to their room and let him in. “Hey, little buddy?”

Henry set his backpack and scooter down by the closet. “Hmm?”

“Do ya know how ya got to the orphanage?” Howie prompted.

Henry plopped down on his bed and stared at his lap. “ _Not really. They told me I was two when they got me. I don’t remember anything before the orphanage. I escaped, though._ ”

“Yeah, Ah heard that. How’d ya do it?”

“ _The night after Thanksgiving, I wrote a note telling them they were awful. Then I took all the money I had--which wasn’t really much--and snuck out through the kitchen window. I managed to get to the other side of the city before morning and found an abandoned house to live in. I learned the alleyways really quickly. And if anyone tried to find me in my house, I’d go to the second story. The wood could barely hold me, so there were a lot of broken stairs. I had to stop going to school because they kept trying to find me there. R-E-G-I-N-A-L-D and Red caught me. Mrs. Blood-worth never did._ ”

Howie huffed. “Well. Ain’t that a story! You’re a pretty clever kid!”

Henry smiled a little. The look was gone rather quickly. “ _How did you get to the ranch you talked about?_ ”

Howie’s smile was gone as well. He got up and strolled to his closet, backpack in hand. “It’s a long story. Pretty boring. I don’t even remember all of it. I was, like, thirteen when I got to the ranch. An’way, Ah should get goin’.” With that, Howie strolled out of their room.

In all the time Henry had been going to the shooting range with Red, he learned not only every piece of the gun to the point where he could feasibly take it apart and put it back together again, but he could also recite the safety rules, what to do for most any problem he could possibly encounter when it came to the BB gun, and then how to shoot the smallest point in the center of a small wooden box sitting precariously atop the stand used to hold the target paper. Henry never did get it on purpose, but he did try, and he did hit the object in question. Red had a flag set beside it on windy days so the target was moving sporadically. Henry hadn’t gotten the hang of that one, but he did hit the flag on a regular basis.

But now, they weren’t out on the shooting range. In fact, they hadn’t left the airship. “Now,” Red proclaimed as they walked. “--you are skilled with that BB gun and have the base for the skills needed to handle a real gun. But, not all fights will be fair or go as planned. I will teach you how to defend yourself without a gun.” After a few tries with a key card, he managed to open the door to a compact gym of sorts. A few people occupied it.

“Now, the first thing you need to know is ’ow to assess your opponent. Everything hinges on your opponent. The stance you take and the style you use depends on who you’re fighting. Understand?”

“ _Yes, Red._ ”

“Do you know what that is?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Henry answered with a sharp nod. “ _Fighting someone your own size is different than someone bigger or smaller than you. It also depends on if someone is stronger or weaker or more experienced or not._ ” Just like when they learned to shoot; fighting someone more experienced was much different than fighting someone of his own skill level.

“Correct. Now, always utilize your advantages. Currently, you don’t ’ave the strength to knock me down. So, what you will do instead is dodge. Get into a stance.”

Henry slipped into a self-taught stance, one foot slightly in front of the other, knees bent, heels up, and muscles tense.

Red huffed. “No. You almost have it, but no. Loosen up. You won’t be getting anywhere stiff as a board. Hold your hands up in front of your face, not in a fist but like you’re about ready to. Right heel back further.”

Eventually, Henry was in a fighting stance. He felt… stronger, just standing in the position in which he was. “ _Is this it?_ ”

“Yes. Now, keep your hands in front of you. It’s to help protect your face. In a fight, if someone can hit your eyes or nose, it won’t be as much of a fight as a beating. Now, get ready. I’m gonna throw some practice swings, I need you to dodge. I won’t hurt you, but dodge.”

Henry watched Red. Although the man swung at him, it was slower than Henry knew he could hit, and he easily dodged. The longer they sparred, or the longer Henry dodged, the more and more tired he got until finally, as he ducked another swing from Red, he stumbled over his own feet and landed flat on his back.

Henry groaned and pulled himself up to his elbow. Red stood up straight and waited for Henry to pick himself up. “We will need to work on your stamina.”

Henry nodded, wheezing and gasping too hard to speak.

“Now, we can rest and then try again in--” Red glanced at his watch. “--thirty minutes.”

 _Thirty minutes?_ Henry tried not to complain as he followed Red back to a bench and sat down, head tipped back to rest on the back and his entire body melting into the seat. Ugh, he felt like a slice of cheese that had been thrown on a hot burger. But even sitting down, he hardly felt as if he was resting.

Seconds after he plopped down in his seat, he felt a hand pat his shoulder. “Wake up, kid. Time to get moving.”

Henry let out a quiet groan, but obediently pulled himself up and followed Red back to where they were practicing.

“You won’t be building up any strength stopping when you think you’re tired.”

“ _Red, I am tired._ ”

“You haven’t exercised like this before in your life. You will feel tired. Now, I won’t let you overexert yourself. Continue.”

 _Was this what Red did as a kid?_ Henry kept up his dodging, though his form was sloppy, as Red did not hesitate to point out, and he could barely focus on keeping himself upright. _No wonder he was so serious all the time. He probably never played games as a kid and always trained._ Of course, the thought made him sad, so he shook it off. Instead, he put as much of his willpower and strength in his actions as he could.

Finally-- _finally_ \--Red called for him to cease. Henry nearly collapsed on the spot, but somehow managed to stay on his shaky feet. “Let’s get washed up.”

Henry stood close enough to Red to trip him had the older Toppat decided to back up. Henry knew this well, having been tripped over a few times. The ladies always got really annoyed if they tripped over Henry, even if Henry was just being quiet and not doing anything. But Red never got mad at him. Worse, he sometimes got guilty, and Henry didn’t like that because it _was_ Henry’s fault for standing too close and being too quiet. But Red understood that.

Henry looked up at Red as he began to move. Well, he didn’t know _where_ Red was going, but wherever it was, it was better than being alone. Even if Red was just doing boring important people stuff like talking about stuff Henry didn’t understand or doing paperwork.

Evidentially, Red _did_ need to do paperwork. It was probably math because he picked up a calculator once he got back to his desk. Henry pulled up his chair from nearby. It was smaller and taller than Red’s with a blue seat on it. He’d hardly gotten to his place when Red gave him a few papers and a pencil, too.

Henry perked up and picked up his pencil. He didn’t much _like_ math homework. But he also didn’t like sitting in one place doing nothing. Besides, if this was anything like whatever Red was doing, then if Henry got really good at it, he might be able to help. So, he got to concentrating on his own work.

A long silence spanned between them, interrupted only by the quiet scratching of pencil or pen on paper, the occasional squeak of an eraser or clicking of the calculator. Henry didn’t have a calculator. _“Doing it yourself now makes it easier to do it more quickly in the future,”_ Red had told him. Henry didn’t quite know _why_ ; after all, they had phones with calculators in them, and Henry was going to get a phone when he grew up enough to get one. But Red was really smart, so he probably knew something Henry didn’t.

Man, he kinda wanted to go outside? But there wasn’t anything to do outside--actually, there wasn’t an outside. Red was staying inside, anyway. Maybe Red was going to be able to take a break soon and they could play a game. Red didn’t really _play_ , though. Henry set down his pencil and watched Red work. The man mumbled something under his breath and tapped at some point where he’d scribbled quite a few things down.

Red finished whatever he was writing down and looked over the papers again. After a brief check-through, he tidied the papers and clipped them together. He turned to Henry, who presented his own homework. It didn’t take the man long to look through it and give Henry an approving nod. Henry grinned and paperclipped his own homework together.

They stopped by Henry’s and Howie’s room on the way back from Red’s to wherever he needed to drop off that packet. “Henry,” Red stated as Henry put the papers in a thick, partially filled folder hanging in his closet.

Henry turned his attention back to Red and shut his closet door.

Red paused as he thought through his words. He signed, “ _Do you want to get ice cream?_ ”

Henry beamed and nodded.

This elicited a small smile from the man. “ _After this, then._ ”

Henry could only assume “this” was the paperwork he’d been doing. Henry followed close to Red, his hands in his pockets. They talked with a few more adults in the record-keeping room and eventually found themselves in the front of the ship, the Bridge. Chief Terrence piloted the ship, chatting with Reginald, who was beside them.

“Oi, Reg,” Red announced as they got close.

Reginald turned around, his gaze turning to Red. “Oh! Hello, Red. Henry. Did you manage to look through our plans for the museum heist?”

“I checked through our plans. They’re good to go.” He offered the paperwork to Reginald, who looked over it. “I checked in with Wilhelm already.”

Reginald let out a quiet sigh. “Thank you, Red. These _do_ look to be in order.”

“I need to take Henry out. Are you available to come with us?”

Henry looked up at Red and then Reginald, struggling to put down the fluttering feeling of excitement in his chest.

Reginald blinked and then thought for a moment. “Ah. Well… I believe I may have some time. Chief? Would you mind if I helped Red out with Henry for a while?”

Chief Terrence looked at him, sending a brief glance at Henry as he did so. Henry hid behind Red. “Red looks like he’s been doing a good job babysitting the little guy. If you must, I can keep you covered. I was just about to work on that mission we were planning in Canada, but I can wait.”

Reginald frowned and gave him a reluctant sigh. “No, you’re right. That is a very important and incredibly dangerous mission that still needs polishing. Red, why don’t we talk after dinner? We can plan for something then.”

“Alright, Reginald,” Red responded and moved out.

Henry followed, disheartened, and struggling to put it down. He decided to wait until they got to one of the pods before asking, “ _Why does he always have to be busy?_ ”

“ _He’s the chief’s deputy,_ ” Red explained, letting the door to the pod close behind him as he entered a few numbers into the pad. “He’s almost as responsible for the ship as the chief is.”

“… _why would he adopt me if he never has time for me, though?_ ”

Red didn’t answer this.

“He doesn’t love me.” Henry hadn’t meant to say this last bit aloud or say it in the first place in any language, but he did. He shrunk into himself. He winced and looked up upon feeling Red’s hand on his shoulder.

“Henry,” Red stated. “Reg cares for you. ’E’s a little busy is all.”

Henry started to speak, but the words died as he felt his throat tighten. He instead looked away, fidgeting with his hands on his lap and his watery eyes narrowed at some random piece of the wall.

* * * * *

They were done with the week’s work. Now, it was just time to wait for lunch. Henry watched a group of kids nearby, all clustered around a few desks. Henry couldn’t quite pick up what was being said, exactly. But he _did_ notice what they had. They’d folded a piece of paper into a little triangle and now flicked it back and forth at each other. Weirdly, though it _looked_ random, there was a sort of pattern. Only two kids at a time played with the paper triangle. Both of them attempted to flick the little piece of paper off the opposite end of the desks. Occasionally, over the other person’s hands as they held out their hands in “L” formations and held the thumbs together.

One kid cackled and hit the desk, causing Henry to jump. “Twenty-one!” he exclaimed to his friend, who groaned and accused him of cheating, but gave him the win anyway and allowed someone else to take his seat. The second kid moved out of the way for another person as well. Then these two kids were the center of attention for even more kids as talking quickly became boring and the game being played near the middle of the room proved far more entertaining. Soon enough, Henry’s vision was mostly blocked so he had to lean to the side and crane his neck to get a decent look at what was happening. It was pretty unfair, since Henry was technically there first, but since Henry wasn’t actively standing over there, it made sense. Though this was Henry’s desk and Henry was watching them so they probably should notice that. Or perhaps they didn’t notice him at all. The two standing in the aisle beside him talking at a rather rude volume helped with that theory.

Eventually, those two finished their game and it rotated to another few kids. Soon enough, most of the class was in participation--some from wandering in, others being roped in, and a few having been there originally--and it had turned into a tournament. With their teacher messing with something on his desk probably unaware of their existence, fuel was added to the fire. Henry looked up as the kid next to him-- one of the two that had been talking over the people playing--was encouraged to play.

“I-I was just watching--” said the kid.

“And? You’re literally the _only_ one in this room who hasn’t gotten a turn. Come _on!_ ” the girl insisted. “If you beat him, I get to beat you!”

“You couldn’t!”

The exchange didn’t last long enough to become a squabble as the kid sat down and took the little paper triangle. It was a football, Henry learned. Paper football. That was the whole game. They just had to score as many points as possible by flicking the ball over the edge of the desk or through the other kid’s goal-shaped hands--the two “L”s they formed made a goalpost, Henry learned--and first to twenty-one was the victor. No one was to touch the paper except the player, as moving it around was cheating for someone. Henry was a little unsure, but one kid did blow the piece of paper a few inches across the table and get scolded by three different other kids wrapped up in the game all at the same time.

The bell rang.

Henry jumped and gathered his things all already neatly shut and bound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But they went out for icecream?
> 
> I started writing this novel after writing "Cold Treat" so it only made sense I write it somewhere. Also, did you know Paper Football has its own wiki page? With a known cheater and tournament and everything!


	11. Surviving the Battle

“Red?” Henry asked as he got in the shiny red car. Reginald wasn’t with them.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever heard of paper football?”

“Mm, no. Why?”

“When class was over the other kids started playing it,” Henry answered. “I’ve never heard of it before. I was wondering if you did.”

Red grunted. “Kids make games out of anything. Do you have any homework?”

Henry started to shake his head. Wait. _Russian_. Yeah, he had Russian homework to do. “Yeah.”

“Then you aughtta finish that first,” Red declared. “After that, we can talk.”

Henry nodded and held onto his backpack more tightly.

The trip from where they found the pod to the ship took a little bit longer than normal. Red offered to help Henry with his homework, which was nice because Red knew the language well.

“The easiest way to avoid spilling secrets is to speak in a language no one else can understand. That will work for and against you,” Red stated.

“Do you think we’ll meet anyone that speaks Russian? Like from The Wall?”

“Absolutely,” said Red. “It’s inevitable. But, listen. Kid, the reason it’s inevitable is because The Wall is a dangerous and ruthless place, especially with Warden Dmitri. The man’s cold as the ice he lives in. I don’t want you to _think_ about meddling with something having to do anything with them. Understand?”

Henry nodded vigorously.

“Good. Now, here. You know the alphabet, don’t you?”

Henry stayed in his bedroom after he was done with his homework. Red went to go talk to Reginald and they would meet up. But in the meantime, he should probably wash up. So, wash up his did, cleaning his hands and face and straightening out his clothes. He didn’t have anything to do--shower time was in the morning or evening--but he was a little tired. So, he decided to flop down into bed for a short rest.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, an alarm wailed.

Henry squealed and jumped up. The alarm cried once more before falling silent. Shoes rushed through the halls. The noise faded quickly. He slunk to the door and set his ear against the metal. Far down the hall he heard the sound of action--yelling, moving bodies, the like. It was quiet being so far away. Even that faded as the action moved to somewhere else.

Further in the opposite direction, he heard the _hiss_ of a door opening. Henry sucked in his breath. _Please let that be a Toppat, please let that be a Toppat, please let that be a Toppat--_

“ _Это ясно_ _!_ ” the masculine voice called into something. He couldn’t be talking to anyone in person, Henry only heard one pair of footsteps. Bad guys had _definitely_ boarded the ship. There was no other explanation.

Okay, so, bad guys had boarded the ship and they were fighting with the Toppats. Henry was alone, but he was in his room. This was _his_ territory, his home base. He had the advantage, territory wise. He was also young and small and _technically_ a healthy weight. So, he was at a massive disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat, _sure_ , but he could hide somewhere the man wouldn’t be able to follow, right?

 _Hisss!_ A door closer to him opened.

Henry jumped and ran to his closet. He unveiled his BB gun and faced the door. Nothing good would happen if he was just standing around! But… what could he do? What could Henry possibly do?! He wasn’t trained to be in this position! He’d never had to hide from bad guys! Yeah, teens, and the ladies at times, but never… _them!_ Whoever he was!

Then, he felt something beside him, just a little farther back. The back of Henry’s neck tingled as if he was being watched. Henry turned his head back. Nothing. He was alone.

_Hiss--_

The opening of the door to the room next to Henry stopped unnaturally fast. In fact, the whirring of air through the vents ceased as well.

**You have a decision to make, Henry.**

Henry squeaked and whipped his head around. No one. Nothing. He was alone. What was that voice?

**Listen to me, Henry. You have three options before you. Do what you need to survive.**

Henry blinked and turned back to the door. _Do what you need to survive_. Well, Henry’s best chances of survival all involved _not_ getting caught and probably killed by the intruder. Technically, he could stand off against the guy and distract him with the BB gun so he could make a break for it. But what choice was the best one to make here? And why was the sound gone? Was time standing still?

**Yes, Henry. Every time you must make a _choice_ like this, one that could lead to major consequences, I will be here. I _may_ stop time, but not forever.**

Well, what if that choice he made got him killed? Then the whole time-stopping would be unnecessary. If whatever person or entity or whatever could stop time, couldn’t they get Henry out?

**I can bring you back from a _FAIL_ , put you back in this spot or in another where a decision must be made, but you have to make the decision first. I won’t do it for you.**

Was the entity or person or whatever getting impatient? That probably wasn’t a good thing. So, Henry tightened his fingers over the BB gun, allowing his pretty ring to gleam in the light. There were a few choices he could make. He could hide in the closet, under the bed, or he could run. Henry’s best bet would probably be to hide under the bed.

The door to the room beside him finished its quiet hiss as it opened, and the air in the vent above whirred. Henry dove under the bed and squirmed back so he was against the wall. He unlatched the safety of his gun and cocked it to be sure a bullet was in the chamber. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to use it. But it was better to be prepared and not need it, then need it and be unprepared.

_Hisss!_

Henry flinched as the door to his room opened. Thick, furry boots rushed over the floor. The bathroom door opened. Henry’s closet opened and then Howie’s. A knee rested on the ground as the man in a heavy looking furry suit knelt. Henry could see the back of his fuzzy hat as he searched under Howie’s bed. The man let go of the blanket resting on the ground and searched under Henry’s bed.

_Pop!_

“Agk!”

The man _screamed._ He jumped back, screaming and swearing and fumbling with his rifle, which he now only held with one hand. Henry squirmed out from under his bed, abandoning his weapon. He looked back only long enough to shut the door. But in that fraction of a second, he saw the man clad in a heavy, gray, fur-lined uniform stamped with a red and yellow symbol on the chest and hat holding a hand over his left eye.

Henry darted down the corridor in the opposite direction the man had gone. He looked back and bristled upon seeing a new person pelting down the hallway. Henry could run to the Warehouse, where he could probably find some place to hide, crawl into a vent, or lock himself in another room. Wait, why wasn’t time stopping? Did he have a choice to make? Didn’t the entity person say he had--

Henry ran face-first into the wall.

**Look where you’re going!**

Henry glanced back. Another man similarly dressed to the one in Henry’s room, rushed down the hall. Okay, so, concentrate, Henry! You needed to do something!

Henry spotted a vent nearby. He skidded to a stop, tore off the register, and crawled inside. He’d just gotten his full body inside when the man chasing him stopped at the vent. Henry felt a hand grab onto his ankle. He squealed and clawed at the slick vent lining, but it was for not as he was dragged out.

The man grabbed Henry by the collar and yanked him back. He slapped a thick gloved hand over Henry’s mouth when the boy stumbled back into him. Henry grabbed his arm and he writhed and kicked, but it was fruitless. The man was much bigger than him, his heavy, furred parka and thick pants and boots and hat only adding to his size. A simplified yellow watchtower symbol with an upside-down red-and-white striped triangle over it was stamped on his chest and on his furry cap.

**Henry sus, I saw him vent.**

There’s not enough time to stop by a vent! Ugh, his greatest escape plans always took a few seconds, didn’t they? If he couldn’t use the vent, and he did _not_ want to risk doubling back on the _maybe_ that he could juke him, then he just needed to get into the Warehouse.

Henry pushed himself to run faster until he got to the end, where he skidded to a stop. Though he hit the door, he didn’t crack his head open on it or something. He pulled out the card from his lanyard and swiped it over the card reader.

_Bzzz!_

_TOO FAST. SWIPE AGAIN._

_Bzzz!_

_TOO SLOW. SWIPE AGAIN._

_Bzzz!_

_BAD READ. SWIPE AGAIN._

_Bzzz!_

_BAD READ. SWIPE AGAIN._

_Bzzz!_

_TOO FAST. SWIPE AGAIN._

_Beep._

_ACCEPTED. THANK YOU._

Henry swept inside and slammed shut the door. A heavy _thump_ came in answer and an angry beep. Henry didn’t know _who_ was in charge of the card devices, but once this was over with, he would see to it that whoever made those card machines got thrown overboard! …probably. Or he’d just complain to Reginald and get him to find whoever did it and find a way to change it. Right?

Henry looked over his surroundings. No one was in the crane. The fuel tanks and fires and pipes grumbled and hissed. Henry _could_ hide in the crane… or _on_ it. After all, no adult would actually go onto the crane. Inside? Yeah, they’d probably look for him. But on top? Nah. Henry could also hide among the pipes and valves in the left side of the room. There was a pile of coal. The Bridge would probably be quiet right about now. Also, the ventilation system was here as well.

Henry had a choice.

 _Now_ time stopped. Henry could hide on the crane, hide in the pipes, hide behind the coal, hide in the vents, or go to the Bridge.

Henry scanned his surroundings and then shook his head. Nope. He was _not_ risking going to another part of the ship. So, he ran over to the crane and climbed up into the cockpit or whatever it was called. He hummed, looked around, and then got out the window and climbed up onto the top. Henry carefully crawled onto the arm. From there, he could get to the end and hide. Then no matter what, no one would be able to find him until he _wanted_ to be found. Great idea!

The door opened below him. Henry opened one eye, finding the Wall guard stalking inside, tossing aside a small tool as he went.

Henry watched the man explore the Warehouse. He was quick on his feet, checking everywhere that he could possibly check. Frustrated, he ran to the crane. The door to the Warehouse opened with a _hiss_. The Wall guard dove behind the crane. Inside rushed a man with a top hat black as his hair--Chief Terrence! Henry recognized that hat, the only thing he could feasibly see from this far away. He ran to the Bridge without looking back or around himself. It took only two tries for him to get inside.

The Wall guard stalked out and headed to the Bridge.

Ooooh no. No, no, no, that man was going to hurt Chief Terrence! Then he’d crash the airship or something! Henry couldn’t let that happen, no way.

Henry could make his way back to the crane and climb down. He could simply jump down and hope to hit the pile of coal nearby or climb back down the arm.

Henry had a choice.

Well, the fastest way off the crane was to jump. So, Henry climbed down onto the claw and let himself slip off one of the pointed grasper claws. He managed to land on his feet, but the coal shifted beneath him and he went tumbling to the foot of the pile. Henry looked up in time to see a good chunk of the coal pile rush down to meet him.

**Be careful, those piles are bound to COAL-apse**

Ew. Whoever the entity was, that was really bad. Well, if he got covered in coal dust, that would take forever to wash out. So, he crawled back over the arm of the crane and climbed down. By the time he got to the ground, the Wall guard was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t _seen_ the door open. Was he hiding? Or had the door opened while Henry was climbing down? That was probably it.

Henry ran through the Warehouse and stopped in front of the door to the Bridge. It only took one swipe for him to open the door. Henry ran inside. The door quietly shut behind him. There was Chief Terrence at the control panel, messing with the panel a little slowly, as if unsure of what exactly he should be doing. A golden gun was clenched in his right hand, so that probably wasn’t helping. Well, getting out of wherever they are would be a good start. Henry crept up to the back of the chair to look at whatever progress he was making from under his arm. He didn’t remember too much off the top of his head, but looking at the panel… were they staying still? Oh, no, he was deactivating the brakes. So… was no one going to tell anyone else? The Bridge was empty.

An alarm blared from one of the panels, alerting them of a few open doors as the airship was ready to take off. Henry gasped and stepped back. Chief Terrence bristled at the noise and whipped around, nudging something else and causing another alarm to go off and then a really loud boom.

Henry stumbled back and ended up tripping over himself. Owwww… He set his hand on his head and grimaced as a new pain met with his splitting headache. Something may have tapped his shoulder, but he was quite unsure. He felt a hand grab him by the back of his shirt and yank him up. “ _Henry?_ ” he managed to hear.

Now being held and pulled back to reality in a way he didn’t like, Henry froze, hardly daring to breathe.

“ _Henry?_ ” the voice called again. He still couldn’t move. Now the pain in his shoulder was becoming more evident, especially having moved so suddenly so quickly in the direction he had been taken. Whoever held onto him swore and let go and backed off a few paces. Henry flinched and set his hand on his shoulder. _Red._ That’s what he saw when he lifted his hand. Sticky, warm red slicked over his palm and fingers and now he didn’t know what to do. He was bleeding and hurting and there was noise, and he was cold and nauseous, and it was hard to breathe and what was happening?

The door opened and there was someone new. Henry flinched and pawed at whoever wrapped something quite firmly around his shoulder. The ground vanished out from under him and now he was being moved. Well, whoever carried him was trying to be gentle, so it couldn’t be a Wall guard. Since Chief Terrence was probably busy with the ship, maybe it was Red! Henry shut his eyes, biting back a whimper at the pain that came in response to the awkward movement.

Soon enough, Henry was laid down on a bed--a slightly stiff one with the thin sheet. He remembered the wrapping being taken off his shoulder, but that was about it before unconsciousness finally decided to take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shot through the arm and you're to blame, you give save states a bad name, _bad name!_
> 
> I promised you a text-based fangame and I shall deliver. [Surviving the Battle](http://play2.textadventures.co.uk/Play.aspx?id=1uslxeuvyeyg7ermnfqyjg)
> 
> (In the second book there's an even bigger one. >>)


	12. Wake Up

“…telling you, it doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“There wasn’t a guard in there.”

“Because he ran off, he told you that.”

“Then why did we have to find him to get help? Wouldn’t he have called you?”

“That I can agree was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t the only mistake.”

“Yes, the security was lax in some places, namely the Bay. But we captured one for questioning and kept the damage to minimal.”

“This wasn’t _lax security,_ and you know it.”

“We’re not having this argument again. He’s trying his hardest. Things are difficult right now, but they’ll get better. What do you _want_ me to say?”

Henry managed to open his bleary eyes. It was white where he was, with dark colors marring his vision nearby. Lights glared down from above. The quiet beeps and whirrs of machinery and sounds of human life farther off were muffled by the two hushed voices hissing at each other next to him.

“That--Henry’s awake.”

“Henry? Can you hear us?”

Henry nodded, though he wasn’t quite aware of the action. So, he did it a second time just to make sure. He blinked the blurriness from his eyes, for the most part and looked up. Beside him were Reginald and Red, the chair beside him empty.

“How are you feeling?” Reginald immediately asked. “You haven’t been asleep for that long, relative to what I would have expected, anyway.”

Henry concentrated on his hands as he messily signed, “ _I’m okay. Tired._ ”

Reginald hummed, “That makes sense. You just got a blood transfusion and are still under some pain medication.”

“ _What happened?_ ”

“We found you in the Bridge with Chief Terrence,” Reginald answered. “He said you or he were followed by a Wall guard? Which, we hadn’t seen any of _those_ up until that point, but we captured one that had been in the Living Quarters. That one claimed to have been hit by you. Was that true?”

“ _BB gun,_ ” Henry answered.

“Ah, yes. It is a very good thing Red taught you how to use that. Well, Chief Terrence said that one had gotten into the Bridge. He hadn’t seen you at first, but he _did_ see that one and managed to drive him off. But you got shot in the process.”

“And he didn’t,” Red pointed out, his tone calm and neutral.

“Yes, that Wall brute missed, he told you that,” Reginald chided and turned back to Henry. “Do you remember any of that?”

Henry slowly shook his head. “ _Can’t… think._ ”

“As expected,” Reginald admitted. “We know you’re hurt and tired, so we aren’t expecting anything of you, alright? You’ve been very brave and clever and have shown quite a bit of skill already.”

Henry smiled a little bit at that. He ran away from the guards, but he did manage to take one down. And he managed to survive! After getting shot!

Reginald glanced at his watch and swore under his breath. “I must be getting back to work. I’ll be back, Henry. Thank you, Red.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Red promised.

Henry watched Reginald leave and then turned back to Red. “You’re leaving, too?”

“No, kid, not right now. We won’t leave you alone.”

Henry nodded and looked at his hands. His shoulder was sore. He didn’t like that, not one bit. “Red? Are you guys okay?”

“…yes,” Red eventually answered. “A lot of people got hurt. Guns can be dangerous, Henry, but it’s the people that make them that way.”

Henry nodded. _Right, one of Henry’s first lessons._ “Are they gonna come back?”

There was another short silence, where Red was staring at the hallway instead of Henry. “Maybe.” He turned back to Henry. “But if they do, you are not gonna be in their way.”

“What if they check my room again?”

“Then you won’t be there. You’ll go straight to a safe room.”

“Okay.” Henry shut his eyes and leaned his head back. “Am I going back to school tomorrow?”

“No. Not until the doctor clears ya. B’sides, today’s Saturday, Henry.”

Henry put a hand to his mouth to cover a yawn and then let it rest on his chest. “Okay.”

_Red and blue, red and blue, red and blue, red and blue_

_Darkness swallowed the landscape, half barren but spiked by structures like rotten, straggly teeth reaching from foundation and dust. Colored lights lazily shone off cars, weapons, gleamed in the eyes of people swarming the building closest like locusts. Shouts rang in the air--threats, commands, dares. Alarms screamed. Fear masqueraded as bravery._

_Red and blue, red and blue, red and blue, red and blue_

_The incomprehensible words melted further, and thunder cracked the air. Thunder, from a cloudless sky in the dry cold of the desert night. Thunder, again and again--no, shots. Bullets broke the sound barrier and tore through metal and shattered glass. A few lights like pointed, dim suns shone toward the building. The entities caught within its glare scattered like shadows. The fear started to slack._

_Red, blue, red, blue, red, blue, red, blue_

_More shadows emerged, flanking the battered cars. More shots, more shouting, more fear. The colored lights tried to move. A few shattered. The fear was gone, now. The fear left with the increasing number of shadows. Shots had stopped firing, most likely because they were not infinite. Just like the one, not infinite. Strong, but not forever. Feared, but not for long. Rubber smoke choked the air. The colored lights could move, now, evacuate the shadows’ domain. For now. The shadows were gone; lit up, silhouettes, loud._

_Red, blue, red, blue, red, red, red, red_

Henry woke up to a hand on one shoulder and a burning pain in the other. He yelled and scrambled away from the person’s touch. His left hand slipped right off the side of the bed. He froze as someone on the opposite side of the bed caught him and then brought him back. The person let go soon after. “Hey, hey, it’s okay! It’s okay, Henry, you’re safe here.” The voice was feminine. When Henry relaxed enough to open his eyes, he found… The Witch there. The Witch? He rarely ever saw her. Standing on the floor, half-open eyes bleary from sleep, was a little eight-year-old girl.

“Mom?” the girl mumbled.

The Witch sat back down, allowing the girl to climb into her lap again. The Witch turned back to Henry. “What happened?”

Henry shook his head and pulled his blanket over himself. He whimpered upon disturbing the wound in his shoulder.

“Does your shoulder hurt?”

Henry nodded and rubbed his damp eyes.

“The doctor left some medicine here that should help make your shoulder not hurt anymore. Are you okay with that?”

Henry eyed her suspiciously. Mrs. Bloodworth tried giving him medicine a few times. It just put him to sleep all day and made it hard for him to feel or want to do anything. Or when he got sick and had to take that liquid medicine that made him want to throw up more than his sickness did. Still, the Witch offered him a couple of pills and a glass of water, the glass slick with condensation marred by her fingers. It’s not like he had a choice, kids couldn’t say no to adults, after all. Henry forced himself to take the water and choke down the pills, which hurt his throat, so he had to drink the rest of the water.

“Are you hungry?”

A little. But… no, he didn’t want to. So, he shook his head and held out the glass. When she took it, he signed, “ _Where’s Red and R-E-G-I-N-A-L-D?_ ”

The Witch’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

Henry pouted. Well, Charles didn’t know ASL--at first, anyway--but he really wanted to communicate with Henry. So, Henry wrote out “ReD” in the air in front of him like he was drawing on a foggy window with his finger. “ReGiNALD.”

“Red and Reginald?” The Witch echoed. “They’re still working. But I can tell them you’re awake!”

Henry shook his head and lay down. “TiReD.” Tired, but not willing to sleep. What if he had that nightmare again?

…

What _was_ that nightmare, anyway? What happened? Where had he been? Didn’t people usually dream of places they had been and people they met? It was a place he’d never been, though it _was_ dark so maybe he’d made up something but wasn’t good at it. Then there were people, faceless people that moved like shadows. He knew they were there, he could hear and see them, he could _feel_ them there, like it was natural, like it was something he experienced before, even if it was scary and even if he didn’t like some of them. Maybe he recognized some of them, but he couldn’t remember. Now that he was awake, he could consider that maybe the shadows had hats.

…what if that really happened, or at least could? Just like that Wall guard, how Henry shot him and then ran away. He was alone. If Chief Terrence hadn’t been there, Henry would have been alone, too. Maybe that’s what his dream was. Was that going to happen to him? If Henry went somewhere he shouldn’t and got hurt, would they leave him, too?

Henry jumped as The Witch patted his other shoulder. He looked back at her, only barely aware of a few traitorous tears slipping down his cheek. “Henry,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Henry shook his head and went back to hiding.

“Well, I know you’re still hurting and it’s scary. So, how about a story?”

Henry peeked over his shoulder at her. The little girl woke up instantly. He looked at the girl and then back at the Witch and hummed.

“Alright. Well, I have a few. Katie, I think you’ll remember this one. I’ve been all over the world, Henry, and I used to go on a lot of adventures with my brothers.” The Witch could mimic _so many voices_ regardless of age or gender or accent. Onomatopoeia was another strong suit of hers--whistling wind through branches, the sharp snap of a broken twig, tapping of shoes against rocks, and the ticking of rain on leaves and stones. She and her two younger brothers went off on their own in the Dogobogo jungle and managed to get themselves lost. They found their way back two days later, hungry and tired but unafraid and wielding treasure from the jungle.

There was a flaw or so in this. After all, what group of twelve-to-fifteen-year-olds could go out into the jungle in the middle of the night, wander for two days without eating anything poisonous, and then come back with treasure? Well, the treasure part wasn’t _that_ unbelievable, it _was_ a jungle after all. Still, what kind of treasure could they find out there?

“Well, the gold kind,” The Witch responded. “You see, I’ve always been pretty good with plants. So, we had food to eat. But this treasure was _heavy!_ It took all three of us to lug a whole crate full of shiny artifacts from the jungle back to our home.”

Henry, sitting up cross-legged in his bed, his shoulder no longer hurting, tipped his head. He wrote out “HOW?”

“How did we do it or how did we find it?”

Henry held up two fingers.

“Oh, it was sitting under some branches and leaves,” The Witch explained. “Someone had gotten this huge crate and covered it up, you see. Later I would find out that this was actually some treasure being moved by some small gang in the jungle. They later disbanded, probably because they ran out of funds after we accidentally stole their treasure. But at the time, we just knew we’d hit the jackpot. We got quite the reward turning that in.”

Another few minutes of questions and answers passed before a new person entered their space. The doctor! With him were some bandages and a bottle, which he set on the table beside him. “Now, Henry, I need to look at your shoulder,” the doctor announced. “Just sit still for a little bit.”

Henry hummed but made no motion to speak or sign or nod.

“Did you take any of the medication I gave you?”

The Witch answered this. “I gave him some pain killers about an hour ago. I didn’t touch anything else.”

“I guess that’s appropriate. You’ll be taking some antibiotics at dinner.” The doctor undid the strings holding the back of his hospital shirt together and instructed him to pull his arm out so he could look over Henry’s shoulder. There was an entrance and exit wound, the gun being fired so close and in such a safe place. Henry winced at whatever the doctor put on it, but quickly did away with the look as he was rebandaged and his shirt sleeve slipped back on. “In about two hours, you’ll take some antibiotics and some pain medicine if you feel like you need it. Depending on how well you’ll heal--which should be well seeing where you were hit--you can go back to school in two days. Understand?”

Henry nodded.

“After it heals up and you take off the bandages, you still need to take it easy and come in to get a check-up. Just because you’re not bleeding anymore doesn’t mean you’re completely healed. Got it?”

Henry nodded again.

“Good. If you have any more questions, ask. Be careful and remember: you _need_ to take those antibiotics after or with dinner. You may prefer a drink with taste in it. Those will help fight off any potential infections.”

Henry waved before the doctor could leave and signed, “ _What about dinner?_ ”

“You’ll eat here. You’re not going to the cafeteria for another day, perhaps more depending.” Then the doctor left.

The Witch said, “Henry, do you want to hear another story?”

Katie was asleep when The Witch finished her third story of the evening, and Henry was very close to following suit. A nurse found them, carrying a tray of food with a large glass of water on it. Henry pulled himself up so he was sitting up straight and watched her approach. “Good evening, Henry, The Witch! Now, make sure you eat, take these, and rest up.”

Henry spelled out, “MOVe?”

“Hmm… tomorrow, I think,” the nurse replied. “The Doctor just wants to make sure you’re healing correctly. You do need to take it easy for a while or you could do some serious damage, okay? You could hurt yourself and then you’ll spend a lot more time than a couple of weeks being bored.”

Henry nodded. “ _Okay. Thank you._ ”

The nurse offered the tray of food to him. Mashed potatoes, grilled chicken, and peas. Beside it in a small bowl were two oblong pills, half orange and half white. The glass of water was secured to a built-in cup holder. “Get to feeling better, Henry. You were a very brave kid out there.”

The nurse gave her best wishes and then she, too, was gone. Strangely, The Witch didn’t leave. Instead, she focused on Katie, running her fingers through the girl’s hair, and humming quietly to herself.

Henry was halfway done with dinner when he spotted Reginald and Red. He set down his spoonful of mashed potatoes and waved, grinning.

“Henry!” Reginald hummed. “Thank you for watching him.”

“No problem at all. He’s a nice kid. Katie, time to wake up.” Katie grumbled, but eventually got up and followed her mother out of the small room.

“How are you feeling?”

“ _I’m okay_ ,” Henry signed. He gasped and grabbed his plate as it nearly fell off his lap.

Reginald asked, “Did the doctor tell you when you could leave this room?”

Henry shook his head.

“Well, we’ll need to ask him ourselves, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. You're finally awake.
> 
> The Witch is a little on the odd side, so I contemplated adding stereotypical witch behavior, then thought against it. Instead, showing skills that would be gained from overdoing said behavior, like being able to command a wide array of different sounds and voices.
> 
> Also: _I finally get to show the dreams!_ Aaaah, this and a second one which I'll point out later were two I made way back. Any time you see any strange dreams, thank _this_ one in particular for starting the ball rolling!


	13. Spooky

_Henry felt his BB gun in his hands. The door opened before him, revealing a figure he couldn’t quite see._

Pop!

_The BB gun went off. The figure, unphased, stalked forward and took Henry by the back of the neck. Henry tried to scream, but a hand covered his mouth and pressed down on his nose. Henry’s feet left the ground and the faceless figure dragged him out of his room._

Henry clutched the sheets of his bed tight, curling his fingers into the fabric and tensing his muscles and causing his shoulder to ache. He shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths. That was just a dream. He’d gotten away from the Wall guard in his bedroom and almost escaped the entire ordeal unscathed. Though he got hurt, he wasn’t alone, and he got help quickly. Red said that it wouldn’t happen again, that he would stay in a safe room if something bad happened. So, Henry had nothing to fear. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay.

“Henry? Li’l buddy?” Howie’s voice came from behind him.

Henry jumped and rolled over so he looked into Howie’s big brown eyes.

“Are ya okay?” Howie ventured.

Henry nodded.

“Okay. Good to hear. Yes.” With that, after a short shuffle of feet, Howie went to get ready for the day.

Henry pulled himself up so he was sitting. He winced and set a hand on his shoulder. Underneath his shirt, a dark, scary red bloomed on his bandages. Ow. Yeah. Maybe pain medicine would be nice. He didn’t have that, though. Reginald handled that. Hnng, it would be nice to have. Regardless, he got ready for the day as well.

Eventually, someone knocked on the door. Howie answered.

_Hisss!_

“Hello. Henry?” prompted Reginald. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“ _My shoulder hurts,_ ” he signed, gritting his teeth as “talking” sent a dull pain shooting through his shoulder. He pointed to the bandages and pulled his shirt back a little to show the blood that had resurfaced.

Reginald’s eyebrows raised. “Oh! Come on, let’s get that checked out.”

“ _Hurts,_ ” Henry complained, following Reginald nonetheless.

“Alright, that first. Wait here.” The man flitted into his room, leaving Henry with Red in the quiet hallway. Further down the halls, Henry could faintly hear voices.

“Henry,” said Red, his voice rather quiet.

Henry turned his gaze up.

“Your shoulder’s going to get better.”

“ _Doesn’t feel--_ ” Henry winced. “ _\--like it._ ”

“Stop usin’ it so much. It won’t take long if you’re careful.”

Henry set his hand on his shoulder and looked down again.

“And you’ll… overcome that fear.”

He really hoped so.

Reginald came back, clutching a thermos and a pill. He held out both for Henry to take. “I filled up that thermos with apple juice, so you should be set. Bring it back to me once you’re through with it, alright?”

Henry nodded and uncapped it. After freeing his hand of the medicine and the thermos of a few swallows of cold apple juice, Henry capped it and looked it over. Just like anything to do with Reginald, it was yellow and blue with ridiculously intricate designs and pictures.

“Now, let’s get to the Med Bay and get one of the nurses to look at your shoulder again.”

Henry hummed and followed them. Unfortunately, his shoulder felt no different. Maybe a little bit of the pain was gone, but it still _hurt_. Though, by the time they made their way to the Med Bay and the nurse looked at his shoulder, the pain was gone. He needed new bandages, but that was okay with Henry.

Henry was okay to go to school the next day, as long as he was careful. In being careful, he shouldn’t use his left arm too much. He got a doctor’s note from some hospital further in Las Vegas that was good enough for the school, so they weren’t mad at him for missing Monday, and his PE teacher begrudgingly allowed him time off--only the amount required by the doctor. Nurse Criss, upon hearing this information from a _very_ offended Reginald, extended what time Henry should spend healing an entire week with a promise to handle it if the teacher disagrees. He didn’t.

Henry had a few scares through his time at school. Regardless, the bullet wound in his shoulder healed and, after some careful monitoring, his shoulder was again ready for more vigorous use, such as self-defense lessons from Red.

Weeks passed by after the raid. Another occurred--not their fault, this time, it was an ambush--and Henry was immediately ushered down one of the halls close to the Med Bay. Reginald stopped him in the middle of the hallway and held out a keycard. A white light beamed and then turned green. A section of the wall sunk and slid away, revealing a spacious room.

“Hide in here and don’t come out and be very quiet. Don’t answer for anyone, okay?” Reginald ordered as he ushered Henry inside.

Henry nodded, looking back at him and wrapping his arms around himself.

“I need to go, now. You’re safe in here.”

The door shut.

The “safe room” as it was called was spacious and white with powder blue walls. A medicine cabinet was to one corner with another cabinet full of canned food and water bottles. A few medical beds clustered by one wall and plenty of chairs lined another. Henry sat in one of the chairs near the food and water cabinet, prepared to duck under his seat the second he was threatened.

But, Henry wasn’t threatened. Despite hearing footsteps grow loud and then become faint multiple times, none of them stopped. Eventually, after some time of silence, the door opened. Reginald and Red, bandages wrapped around Red’s head and Reginald’s right arm, were there. Henry jumped out of his chair and ran to meet them. “ _Are you okay?_ ” he immediately signed, looking between the two.

Red answered this, “Completely. It’s just a scratch.”

Henry sighed and set his head on Red’s side. He mumbled aloud, his voice scratchy from ill use, “That’s good.”

Speaking of something out of his comfort zone, the end of October loomed. Every other kid in the school seemed to buzz in excitement. If there was anyone outside of Henry dampened by the thought of the holiday, he couldn’t see it. Technically, Henry was a little excited as well, but only a little. James helped him get a few things for a few of his costumes through the years, and _sometimes_ the ladies would help, and then Henry would “acquire” other parts of his costume. Thus, his costumes tended to be a hodgepodge far flung from its original form. One year he started off as a vampire and ended up as a bush with fangs. Now, the truly best part of Halloween, going around getting candy? _That_ was what played with his nerves the most. Needing to go up to strangers outside of his element before their homes and _asking_ for candy in a roundabout way? He’d rather snatch a few bags of candy from other kids, thank you very much.

“Aw, you aren’t going trick-or-treating?” Charles asked as they made their way to lunch.

Henry shook his head. “ _I don’t want to, Rooster._ ” He had to repeat “don’t” once, but otherwise Charles understood. Henry heard people calling Charles different names--such as Charlie--but that was not creative. So, Henry thought up a nickname. Due to his pretty auburn hair, Henry had decided that “Rooster” was nice. He thought about “puppy” but that felt weird, especially since he once heard Chief Terrence call Reginald “pup.” When Charles showed no complaints, it stuck.

“Really? Why not? You get to go around the neighborhood getting free candy and walking around in a costume! It’s great!”

Henry shook his head.

Charles hummed, stopping in line. “Is it because you can’t talk? Well, what if we go together? You won’t need to say anything!”

Henry thought for a moment. Well… that _was_ a good idea. The worst parts of Halloween came from having to approach strangers and talk to them. But if Charles stuck with him and did the talking… Henry slowly nodded. “ _Okay_.”

The army kid squeaked in delight. “This is going to be awesome! What are you going to be? We can talk to our parents and they can meet up. We can go all around the neighborhood--oh, I already know the best spots. Some kids that have been here a long time told me. I’m going to be a dragon.”

Henry let him ramble on. But, when he stopped talking, Henry signed, “ _I don’t know what I’ll be._ ”

Charles hummed. “Well… how about a ghost? You’re really good at disappearing!”

Henry chuckled at this.

“Oh! You could also be a knight or a pirate.”

Henry perked up. “ _Pirate?_ ”

“Yeah! Oh, that’ll be so cool! My mom and dad are dressing up, too. Oh! My parents need to meet your parents. Mom and Dad said if I met with anyone after school, they’d have to meet the person’s parents.”

Oh. Well, maybe they had some time to meet each other. Hopefully. “ _I’ll ask, but they’re really busy._ ”

“Absolutely not,” claimed Reginald as they drove from the school. “He’s a military brat. I’m not meeting with his parents.”

“ _He’s not a brat,_ ” Henry defended.

“His parents are still in the government,” Reginald pointed out. “So is his uncle and two grandparents. Multiple other family members are in law enforcement or government positions of some type. We are _not_ meeting with his family.”

“ _But he said his parents want to meet you before we could go trick-or-treating._ ”

“Which is a good thing, I suppose, because you’re not going out on your own,” Reginald concluded.

Henry pouted. “ _Why not?_ ”

“It’s dangerous out there alone.”

“ _Can’t you two come with?_ ”

Reginald let out a short sigh. “Unfortunately, no. We won’t have the time. Mr. Rich took time off for him and Howie, so it would be quite rude to ask for their assistance. Henry, you told us you didn’t wish to go out trick-or-treating.”

“ _I didn’t_ ,” Henry explained. “ _But then Charles asked if I could come with and he’s really nice. But we’ll be okay, and Charles said his parents were really nice and Red taught me a lot about self-defense._ ”

“It’s important for you to know who is and is not okay to stay with. Charles is dangerous. He may not look like it right now as a child, but his family’s ultimate goal is to destroy the Toppat Clan and arrest people like myself and Red and, one day, you. You have been learning quite a bit from Red, but that doesn’t mean you should put yourself in a situation where you might need it.”

Red chipped in, “That knowledge is just-in-case. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

Henry looked out the window and hugged his backpack tighter. After a moment’s thought, he signed, “ _He’s still my friend. He’s really nice to me, even though no one else bothers._ ”

“We can’t stop you from meeting him at school, but Henry remember this: he is a dangerous friend to have, and definitely not in a good way. He may one day end up doing more harm than good, perhaps on accident. So, no, you _aren’t_ going out on Halloween to run around the streets with him and his family.”

“… _okay._ ”

But that was silly. Charles wasn’t _dangerous_. He was a really good person, one of the best people Henry had ever met. He wouldn’t do anything that could hurt Henry. He doubted Charles could, even if he wanted to.

Of everything Henry had the ability to do, forcing Reginald and Red to meet Charles’ parents--or sneaking out and meeting them on his own--was not in his skillset. Besides, if he snuck out, they’d find out and then they’d get mad at him and he’d be in trouble.

So, come Halloween night, Henry sat in his room, Gameboy laying somewhere on his bed. He _had_ the ability to go out to the rest of the airship and do stuff. There was a Halloween party being thrown with people from all over the airship dressed up in different costumes. But Howie and Katie both were gone--as if he’d want to play with Katie, but her mom was nice, and he still didn’t know much about Katie--as were his parents. He again contemplated sneaking out, but that wouldn’t end up well.

Henry eventually got bored moping, so he got up and left his room.

The airship was rather loud, Halloween being such a popular holiday. Since it wasn’t bound to a specific religion or country, plenty of people celebrated it. A place he would have expected to be quiet--the Bay--was crowded as well as people who’d snuck off from the main area of the cafeteria gathered in small groups there. So, Henry found himself near the Vault. He couldn’t get in, unfortunately. The card reader beeped at him when he tried to enter. But the Brig, located on the other side of the Vault, was plenty quiet and small while not being his bedroom.

He hadn’t been inside the Brig for three seconds before he heard a shuffle from within one of the cells.

Henry jumped and spun around to face the cell door closest to the door out. There were three cells in a row between the Vault and exit on both sides of the room. All but one were empty. He couldn’t see into the occupied one being so short, and the slick plastic-glass of the small cell window didn’t have enough of a ledge to allow him to pull himself up. So, he had to content himself to knowing it was occupied solely on the noise made within.

…

Because he couldn’t see inside, whoever was inside couldn’t see him. “Hello?” Henry asked, his voice tentatively quiet and hoarse from ill use.

…

“Hey, is someone in there?”

“Huh?” the voice croaked. “The hell? Are you child? …no, you are just hallucination. ужасной ложью.”

Henry grabbed onto the lip of the window and attempted to pull himself up. He could _just_ see the metal interior of the cell, but nothing else, not even the top of someone’s head. He let go and took a few steps back. “I’m real, I promise. Who are you?”

“…no one.”

“What are you doing in here?”

“Your friends don’t know what to do with me,” the man grumbled. “I can’t fight back. Believe me, I tried. But they have taken everything from me. Tell me, little hallucination, what time is it?”

“Seven thirty, I think.”

“No, the day.”

“Oh, it’s October 31st,” Henry answered.

A slight turn of interest sparked in the man’s voice. “Halloween, huh?” He sighed, and the excitement was gone. “I should be dead. I want death.”

“Why?” Henry’s eyes went wide. Why would anyone want to be dead?

“They keep me here until I wither away into nothing. Until I break, like they want me to.”

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed. “That… that can’t be true. They’d never do that. There has to be another reason.”

The man sighed. “You are good kid. Just go back to your friends.”

Henry shook his head. “No. You’re lonely.” _Being alone sucked._

This elicited a broken chuckle from the man. “You are good child. Tell me, Гудчайлд, why are you here?”

“I live here,” Henry said. “Because Red and Reginald adopted me.”

“…what a terrible life you have before you, Гудчайлд.”

Henry gasped. “No!” He coughed and cleared his throat. His voice hardly changed in strength. “I get to live with my family, and they accept me! We get to make our own rules.”

“Your own rules. They do not abide by any rules, Гудчайлд. You must know this. But I wish to argue no longer, little hallucination.”

“What _do_ you want to talk about?”

“…”

“How about… well… it’s after dinner. What’s your favorite food?”

“Pirozhki. My mother made it every week and for holidays. Now, I make it for… I cannot make it any longer.”

“What’s… that?”

“Pastries filled with potatoes or cheese, though I make it with beef. It is good dish, Гудчайлд. You are free. You should try it. What do you love, Гудчайлд?” the man asked, his interest piqued.

“Oh, uh… well, I like cheese. And cupcakes,” Henry said. He sat down, cross-legged. “But, um… uh… I like burgers, too.”

The man chuckled. “I could never stand _burgers_. You have odd taste, Гудчайлд.”

Henry asked, “What should I call you?”

“What would you call me, Гудчайлд?”

“Um…” the boy hummed and bit his cheek. “Well, I don’t know that much about you. But you speak Russian, like my teacher. And she’s good. …Afanasiy? She had a friend by that name.”

“Afanasiy,” the man repeated. “That is nice name. I will keep it. You may call me ‘Afanasiy,’ Гудчайлд. Do you learn Russian?”

“Yeah! I’m taking a Russian Language Class in school,” Henry answered. “Are you Russian?”

“Да. My home is… far away. Where do you live, Гудчайлд?”

“I live here,” Henry said. “But, uh… I lived in New Mexico, before. The United States.”

“New Mexico. What is it like there?”

“Hot and dry.”

Henry sat there for hours, chattering on and on to the man and listening to his responses. As he got comfortable sitting there in faux solitude, his short and quiet prompts and answers grew a little stronger. Afanasiy was quiet, and his answers rather short. Sometimes his voice deepened in sadness or guilt. Even when he said something that Henry thought would make him angry--like talking about the Toppat Clan and how they captured him--he was just… resigned.

Henry glanced down at his watch. “O-oh! I need to go to bed. I’m really sorry, Afanasiy. You’ve been really nice.”

“As have you, little illusion. I will not keep you.”

“I’ll come back!” With that, Henry got to his feet and ran off, the Vault and its contents forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, but, Charles in a dragon costume in literally adorable. Actually, anyone in a dragon costume is really adorable, it's just the dragon. Gotta embrace the dragon.


	14. Break

It was Friday, November 1st. So, Henry still had to go to school. But that was okay. In fact, it was a good thing. He’d get to meet with Charles again and ask about his night! Maybe he went out with other kids.

“Oh, yeah, we had a lot of fun,” Charles said as they met that morning, backpack over his shoulders. “The Buck twins dressed up as knights and someone brought a really big dog dressed up like a horse. We got so much candy because they thought the twins’ stuff and our theme was really cute. Oh! That reminds me!”

Charles opened his locker and set down his backpack. He pulled out a baby blue pillowcase from inside his backpack and held it out. “Here! I know you couldn’t go trick-or-treating, so I decided to bring a second with me for you.”

Henry took the gray pillowcase and looked inside of it. Quite a few candy bars and little packages and a few paper bags filled it.

“Oh no! A-are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Charles gasped.

Henry, clutching tight the pillowcase, rubbed the tears that were starting to form in his eyes and meekly signed, “ _Thank you._ ”

Charles let out a quiet sigh of relief. “You’re welcome, Henry. I know it stinks not being able to go out sometimes. Maybe we can go out some other time, right?”

Henry nodded, his gaze still set on the pillowcase now held shut in his tight grasp. “ _Thank you._ ”

“You’re welcome!” Charles hummed, grinning his mile-wide grin. “Come on, put that away and let’s see if the computer lab’s open!”

Henry nodded and found his locker.

Henry barely saw Charles after school before they had to split up to go to their own families. Henry found Red and Reginald’s car fairly quickly, both adults there to pick him up.

“Henry,” Reginald began once he got into the car. “How was school?”

“ _It was okay. Charles gave me a bag of candy since I couldn’t go out last night!_ ” Henry unzipped his backpack and held up the pillowcase as proof.

Reginald raised his eyebrows at the score. “Well! Now that’s interesting. That was quite nice of him. Now, Henry, we were quite busy last night and could not take you out as you wanted. However! I would like to rectify that. Today, Red and I decided it would be a good idea to let you decide where we go.”

“ _Really?_ ” Henry put away his pillowcase and zipped it shut.

“Yes. Wherever you want to go. It was cruel to deny you an opportunity to spend time with your friend at the same time as leaving you home alone,” Reginald decided.

Henry looked down at his backpack. He knew what the answer would be if he asked to meet up with Charles’ family. Now that he thought about it, it _did_ make sense. What if Charles’ parents recognized Red or Reginald and tried to arrest them? “ _I don’t know._ ”

“Well, how about we walk around until we find something, then?” Reginald prompted.

They parked in the parking lot of some grocery store and began their walk around the city. There, they walked for _hours_ , simply wandering the city in search of something to do, talking in their own way and occasionally visiting a store when they remembered they needed something. They tested Henry’s pickpocketing skills a little while they were out and about, which was fun. Henry got close to getting caught a time or two, but he was getting better!

In the grocery store, they had mysteriously found themselves near the snack section. Henry gasped and held up a can of chips. It was red with a curled chip on it and a circle face with a cute mustache on it. He turned out and held it up for Reginald to take. “ _He looks like you!_ ”

The neutral, slightly curious look immediately fell from the man. “No, Henry, I _don’t_ look like the… whatever this is.”

“ _Yeah, look, he has your mustache!_ ” Henry grinned, pointing to the piece in question.

“Quite. We aren’t buying this. Shut up, Red,” Reginald hissed, snapping a glare at Red, who innocently watched him. Although Reginald put it back and made it their mission to leave, Henry swiped it and snuck it into the basket Red was holding. Despite Red’s sudden blindness, it did not leave the store.

By the time dinner rolled around and they needed to leave, Henry held onto the cuff of Reginald’s sleeve, grinning.

_Dust and sand and plenty of buildings glowed in the sunlight. Henry grabbed a hold of his bike and zoomed down the street, faceless entities and generic cars and bikes making way for him as he passed. Something he’d find intriguing were he awake. He stopped his bike at a light and looked into the alleyway nearby. He could cut through here and get back to his house. So, he hopped off his bike and walked into the alleyway._

_Dark corridors peppered by light… voices masculine and feminine, old and young, aggressive and meek… The bricks and light had fallen away and now all that was left was emptiness. No, not emptiness. Emptiness occupied by_ things. _Things that he didn’t recognize but felt familiar. There was fear here._

_Henry held up his hand to brush a few strands of hair out of his face when he noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring… and his hair wasn’t black…_

Henry jolted as he woke but stayed on his bed. More confused than scared, Henry pulled his hand out from under his blanket to make sure the ring was still there and then pulled the front strands of his hair to see that they were indeed black.

What… was that?

…a dream, probably. Henry lay back down and shut his eyes. Dumb dreams.

Aa Henry loved the Toppat Clan. He loved living on the airship, even if it was sometimes boring or hard work. Slowly, more of the time he spent with Red and Reginald--Reginald especially--was keeping them company while they worked. So, they didn’t go out very often. In fact, he was spending more time with people like Matilda, The Witch, Thomas, and Geoffrey. It was important to learn many different skills, after all.

He also spent some time with Afanasiy, the prisoner. He was really nice, even if he was probably one of the people who invaded the airship months ago. But he didn’t attack Henry, he was in another part of the ship. Through the months, he visited Afanasiy almost every day. He delivered a meal to him after lunch, as they never gave him lunch. At one point, Henry found himself with an extra Gameboy with games, so he gave it to Afanasiy. He was grateful for the gift. Since Russian was his native language, and Red was less available to help with his homework now a days, Afanasiy taught Henry what he knew. Some days, they would _only_ talk in Russian. Again, Henry considered learning RSL, but that would be a lot to take on at once. Maybe after he’d gotten a good grasp on Russian he could do that.

Henry typically stayed by himself and made sure he was alone when he went to visit Afanasiy. His years of slinking around and time of staying on his own did bless him with a natural silence. But he was still just a kid, and not yet perfect.

Henry climbed down the ladder from the catwalk and landed deftly on the platform that held the door to the Brig. He had hardly gotten close to it when the door opened.

The young boy froze, hardly to breathe. Well, of everyone that he could have met leaving the Brig, Chief Terrence _probably_ wasn’t the worst. Probably.

Chief Terrence raised his eyebrows upon seeing him. “Hello, there, Henry! What are you doing here?”

“ _Walking,_ ” Henry answered. He resisted slapping himself. _Walking._ Seriously?

Chief Terrence chuckled. “Well, it looks like you’re just standing to me! But I was more wondering _why_ you were… walking here.”

Henry didn’t have an immediate answer. Afanasiy was a prisoner, so it probably wasn’t a good thing to meet him. Or, at the very least, they thought it was a bad thing because they didn’t know Afanasiy.

“Hey, kid, it’s okay.” Chief Terrence got down to one knee in front of Henry. “You’re not in trouble! I swear! I was here, too. So, it’s not a bad thing in every sense of the word.” After a short, silent pause, he said, “Hey, I won’t tell Reggie. Or Red. Promise.”

Henry thought on this for a moment. …well… Reginald would probably be mad at Henry for visiting Afanasiy, because he was a prisoner or dangerous or something. But Chief Terrence visited Afanasiy, so he should know he’s a really nice guy. He signed, “ _I was visiting the prisoner._ ”

“You were?” Chief Terrence prompted. Oddly, the statement didn’t seem to surprise him.

Henry nodded. “ _He’s nice and he’s really lonely._ ”

“And you just want to keep him company. You’re a nice kid, you know that?” Chief Terrence and grinned and got to his feet. “And that’s a good thing you’re trying to do! Just… don’t let anyone else see you do it, hmm? Oh, and don’t share too much about the Clan with him, okay? He’s a prisoner for a reason.”

Henry nodded.

“Now, it still wasn’t a good thing to visit the prisoner without talking to one of us first,” Chief Terrence went on, his smile now gone. “Anything could happen, and if something did happen and the prisoner hadn’t been nice to you, no one would know.”

Henry hunched his shoulders and looked away.

“But that didn’t happen, so I guess it’s okay. Now, I need to go back to work. But how about we make a deal?”

Henry made a quiet hum.

“You weren’t supposed to be here. But I can let you off the hook this time. Let’s just keep this between you and me, okay? Reggie’s a good guy, but he might not see this like I would, right?”

The boy slowly nodded. That… that made sense. Yeah. Henry curled one hand, so his thumb and forefingers touched and flicked two fingers, thumb between them, forward and down.

“Good to see!” Chief Terrence ruffled Henry’s hair and got back up. “Now, go play. Time for me to get back to work.”

Henry had watched as a few people strung up some lights near the top of the cafeteria in the airship. A fancy eight-candle contraption lit with oil had been set up a little while before, while a large pine tree was set up in a corner.

Henry stayed away from the shiny lights and glimmering baubles, knowing he might accidently find himself holding onto them. It happened every year; the tree would be set up and decorations glimmering in the buildings. Then Henry would collect as many as he could and squirrel them away. They were eventually found, and he was eventually punished, but he liked them and so it was worth it. He wouldn’t be getting any presents, but that was a given. Still, he wanted to make sure Reginald and Red and Howie got something so, after spending quite a few days thinking and pacing, he got what he wanted with Oldmin’s help and hid them under the decorated tree. Matilda helped him wrap these and taught him a few tricks herself.

Raids tended to pick up in choice spots, places where security went more lax with more people spending more time at home with family and friends. Henry… had found a weird sense of guilt at this point, even though it wasn’t him doing it. Perhaps he was guilty for second-guessing the Toppat Clan, or maybe it was because one of the Christmas stories Charles told him laminated on how his parents weren’t there on Christmas Day due to an emergency, three days after their car had been cleaned out by some other thieves. But Henry would never steal from Charles, and that was that. So, he shouldn’t feel guilty. Besides, Charles got to spend a lot more time with his aunt and uncle and cousins that year.

Unfortunately, there were more implications to Charles being the son of two military parents than just his parents’ presence threatening Henry’s family.

Henry watched as Charles cleaned out his locker. He’d barely said good morning and messed up on the day--Wednesday--when signing. His normal mile-wide smile wasn’t there, either. “ _What’s wrong, Rooster?_ ”

Charles pulled out his notebooks and shut his locker door. “I’m just cleaning out my locker now. It’ll be easier to clean out later.” He looked back at him when Henry patted his shoulder.

“ _Why?_ ”

“Well…” Charles bit the inside of his cheek and clutched his notebooks tight. “My parents need to move and go to a different base. So, I’m going with them. After Christmas break starts. I’m transferring to another school.”

“ _Where?_ ”

“Um… somewhere in Alaska, I think,” Charles admitted. “I’m really sorry, Henry. But my parents need to move a lot. And even if I stayed with my aunt or uncle, they live in Missouri.”

Henry frowned, but quickly did away with the look. “ _Okay. It’s okay. You’re still my friend._ ”

Charles smiled at that, a strained look unbefitting of the boy. “Thanks, Hen. You’re my friend, too.”

Henry rocked on his heels a little.

“Um, do you want to go see if the bucks and Joan are up to anything? Or here?” Charles asked.

Henry thought for a moment, and then nodded. Henry… probably wouldn’t be seeing them much after Charles left. The Buck twins were really loud, and that freaked Henry out, but Charles somehow managed to keep them under control enough to not be overenthusiastic toward Henry, or at least while he was around.

Christmas. So, that’s when Charles would leave and probably never come back. It was for the best, if he really thought about it. He couldn’t be friends with someone from the government. Charles made that sentiment _really_ hard to adhere to. So, with him gone, it would be easy. Maybe Henry could make friends with someone else. Though few people in the school seemed to acknowledge his existence outside of Charles and his other friends. He was pretty good at making friends, being outgoing and friendly. Besides, Henry might never see Charles after they left school and Henry became a Toppat. That would be even better.

So, on Friday, as they walked down the hall for the last time together, Christmas Break looming over them and throwing a shadow of hesitance and dread and melancholy, Henry repeated this sentiment to himself.

They stopped near where children were getting ready to load onto buses. Charles gently patted the strap of Henry’s backpack. “Bye, Hen. It was really nice meeting you! Maybe we’ll meet again someday, I dunno. But have a good rest of the year, okay?”

Henry nodded and signed, “ _You, too, Rooster._ ” Then, without really thinking, Henry grabbed Charles in a quick, tight hug. “Thank you,” he croaked, his voice barely audible above the other children.

Charles tentatively returned the gesture. Henry flinched at his touch. “Aw, you’re welcome,” he hummed. “You’re a really good friend, and I’m sure you’ll make plenty of other friends! I know you aren’t really that social, but the Bucks like you and so does Joan.”

Henry nodded, but didn’t say nor sign anything, his hands busy holding onto Charles and his already tough muteness worse with the tightness of his throat. Unfortunately, the buses were getting ready to leave and Reginald or Red or both were probably waiting. So, Henry slowly let go. With one last goodbye and a shoulder bump from Charles, the two parted ways.

Indeed, the familiar red car was near the front of the line, waiting. Red drove with Reginald beside him. As soon as Henry got in and buckled his seat belt, Reginald asked, “What’s wrong, Henry?”

Henry signed without looking, “ _Charles is moving away._ ”

“Ah. Yes, soldiers do tend to get moved around a lot,” Reginald agreed. “Do you know where he’s going?”

“ _Alaska._ ”

“Alaska?” Reginald echoed. “That’s pretty far away. Well, from what you’ve told me of the boy, I’m sure he will adapt quickly enough.”

Henry nodded. Charles would be absolutely fine. He was so cheerful and optimistic and loved talking to people and making new friends. He did teach Henry a little about socializing, which is what Reginald wanted Henry to learn in the first place. So maybe he would be able to make another friend, or at least interact with people who weren’t on the airship. Mmm, but Charles made the effort to learn ASL. Henry doubted the other kids would as well.

Welp, that was just another bridge he’d cross when he got to it, as the saying went. So, he shouldn’t be so mopey. He still had Howie. Howie was a great friend.

Speaking of whom, when they got back to the airship, Henry dropped off his stuff in his and Howie’s room. Howie greeted with a great grin, “Howdy, li’l buddy! Christmas Break already!”

Henry nodded, attempting a small smile. “ _Yeah. I need to go._ ”

“Oh, okay. Well, see ya!”

Henry waved goodbye and rejoined Reginald. Red had his own duties, so they needed to split up. Henry followed Reginald this time, under Red’s encouragement. Henry looked at his gloves. Thinking back on it, Henry had never actually seen the man’s hands, or his arms. Really, any skin other than his face. Even his neck was mostly drowned by a set of white ruffles embroidered with yellow and blue. Henry tugged at the cuff of his jacket and signed, “ _Why do you always wear gloves?_ ”

“They go with the suit,” was his immediate answer. “You also can’t leave fingerprints with gloves on, which is a valuable tool for a thief.”

Henry hummed and nodded. “ _Gloves feel really weird, though._ ”

“It doesn’t take long to get used to them.”

Hmm, yeah, that was probably just something for Reginald. He didn’t sign very often at all, after all. If Henry wore gloves for a long time, he’d get used to them, too, right? Well… sure, maybe when he was older. He did have a good point with the fingerprints thing and such, which was probably something Henry wouldn’t have to worry about for a while.

Still, Henry was curious. Was he hiding something? Henry used to wear long sleeves to hide bruises. It wasn’t like the ladies ever actually _hurt_ him--Mrs. Bloodworth held his arm a little too tightly once or twice when she dragged him to time-out or his room--but people always asked weird questions if he was bruised or cut so it was easier to just hide it. But that would be weird here, because he was an adult. Maybe he just liked long sleeves, or it was part of his suit. Most everyone had long sleeved suits here, after all.

Henry shrugged off this self-satiated curiosity and turned his attention ahead again.

Chief Terrence met them in one of the halls and perked up upon seeing them. “Reginald! And Henry, I see. How has everything been going?”

“Very well, thankfully,” Reginald answered. “For the moment, we’ve caught a small break, likely due to the impending holidays tempting random criminals into being more active and distracting law enforcement.”

Chief Terrence shook his head with a chuckle. “So, they’ve got their hands full with random street thugs.”

“We can only hope. But that doesn’t mean we should be lowering our guard,” Reginald answered swiftly.

“Oh, of course not, Reginald! You’ve always been the cautious type, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” Reginald stopped speaking.

“Ah, well, since there’s a speck of quiet time, I was just about to plan a nice heist in a museum close by. Technically, I already thought through quite a bit of it, but if you’d like to help in the planning, I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Ah. Of course. Yes, I do have a small bit of spare time, I can definitely help.”

“Oh, good. I was hoping you’d say that. Come on. And what has Henry been doing?” Chief Terrence asked, leading them in another direction down the hallways.

“He’s been following me. I’ve been teaching him about some of the things I do, my responsibilities and different happenings of the Clan he will one day participate in,” Reginald explained, throwing a glance back at him. “And he’s been doing very well so far.”

Henry smiled at this. Here he thought he was just being stupid not understanding some of what he was talking about.

“Aw! He’s going to be a great Toppat someday, hmm?” Chief Terrence threw a brief smile back at Henry.

This… wasn’t as encouraging. Didn’t Chief Terrence not like him? It felt like it since he kept trying to push him off. But he didn’t look venomous right now, and even gave him a compliment.

“Say, you don’t think this will be a little advanced for an eleven-year-old, do you?”

“…perhaps,” Reginald admitted. “Admittedly, it is nice to teach him more about our job. He shows quite a bit of interest in it.”

“Eh, you know more about him than I do,” Chief Terrence responded with a shrug. “I’m just warning you it might get pretty boring for a kid.”

Reginald looked at Henry. “What do you say, Henry? Do you want to stay or go off and play?”

“ _Can I stay?_ ” Henry immediately answered.

“Yes, of course!”

Henry nodded. “ _Then, I want to stay._ ”

Terrence hummed, “Alright. Like I said, you know him more than I. But if it drags out, I have all rights to say I told you so.” He chuckled at this last part like a joke, though Henry had a feeling it really wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Merry Christmas?


	15. Eve

No big events were planned on Christmas Day due to how few people were on the airship so only a few smaller ones were enacted on Christmas Eve. Now, with most people gone and plenty of others without serious work to be done, Henry and Howie pretty much had the airship to themselves. Though Henry had planned on spending more time with Reginald, even if it was just following him around doing boring paperwork, he was told he should spend some more time with Howie being closer in age and probably interests. Specifically, it was Chief Terrence who hinted at this while they were in his office and Reginald reluctantly agreed.

Well, it wasn’t too bad an idea, if Henry was going to be honest. He really hadn’t been spending much time with Howie outside of playing some games in the evening before bed or helping with homework or studying. Luckily, with Mr. Rich on a mission and Howie having no more homework or apprentice-work at the moment, they could utilize the holidays.

“Okay, just crawl through this chute. There should be a hole in the computer room,” Howie instructed, gesturing to the trash chute next to the elevator.

Henry looked into the tube just large enough for Howie. “ _Why am I going again?_ ” He knew the ventilation shafts and trash chutes like the back of his hand, but this felt like a mission for someone slightly older than him.

“Because I need to stay here and look innocent,” Howie said. “Once ya get inta the computer room, you _should_ have access to the giant computer as well as a few smaller ones nearby. Cuppa Joe is usually at that station, but he should be takin’ off soon enough. So, all you gotta do is wait and watch. Now, you should be heavier than the rest of the trash, so you won’t get sucked into anything.”

“ _Okay._ ” Henry took a deep breath and signed, “ _I’m going. I’ll see you on the other side?_ ”

“See ya, buddy!”

Henry opened the trash chute and hopped in. Immediately after the chute closed, he could feel the air suddenly get sucked out from under him. Henry hit the bottom of the chute, only to find that though he didn’t break it--there was only a dent left behind--he _did_ keep sliding.

Henry scrambled to grab a hold of it but was none too successful. Instead, he rammed straight into a repaired bend at full force. Again, the metal didn’t break, and he was sucked up into the bend straight up. Thankfully, there was a hole in the side leading into a large room. Henry grabbed a hold of it and pulled himself down to look over the edge. A Toppat wearing a blue hat in an opposite shape of an hourglass with a straighter edge and matching suit sat at the computer desk. The larger monitor showed a massive board game with a whole bunch of cells and pawns on a map.

Henry, trying to forget how royally he messed up his supposed-to-be controlled move, watched Cuppa Joe play. After a while, something rang on the man’s phone. He shut down the game and left. Once the door was closed, Henry wriggled his way out, landing with a hard _puff_ on the ground. He quickly got to his feet and ran up to the computer.

Well, now Henry was at the computer and Cuppa Joe was gone. He looked up at the computer and then ran to the chute and looked inside. Well, he couldn’t just run out the door lest he run into someone, right? How were they supposed to communicate again? Henry… was supposed to do _something._ Well, he came in through the chute, may as well go back?

Just as Henry started to climb back in, the door opened. Howie strolled inside. “Howdy!”

Henry stepped away. “ _How did you know to come through?_ ”

“Ah saw Joe leavin’,” Howie answered. “Now, what do ya think about a nice stroll across… Newgrounds?”

“ _Okay!_ ”

Henry got the feeling that Newgrounds hadn’t been Howie’s first thought. However, the thoughts started to slip his mind as they tried out every competitive game that came their way. Eventually, as noon caught up with them, Howie said, “Alright, let’s bail before someone comes back, huh?”

“ _Okay._ ” Henry watched as Howie erased all their progress and any hint of their presence rather quickly and stood back.

As they walked to lunch, Howie said, “How many people do ya think are gunna be at lunch?”

Henry shrugged. “Not many, probably.” He thought for a moment. “If everyone else is gone, would you be able to sit at our table?”

“Sure, why not?”

A dozen or so Toppats scattered about the cafeteria. The dull roar that they had come to expect come lunch time had dwindled into the echoes of conversations. Of course, as they went to sit at their tables--Howie sitting across from Henry with a quiet “meh, sure”--Henry’s attention was grabbed by the tree. Someone had been messing with it that morning or perhaps last night, because even more decorative tinsel, bulbs, and lights decorated the magnificent tree. Right now, with all the lights on in the cafeteria and the sun glowing through the windows, the tree lights were off.

Howie chuckled. “Neat tree, right?”

“ _Yeah!_ ” Henry signed. “ _I’ve never seen anything like it! The tree we used to get was way smaller and didn’t have as much decoration._ ”

Indeed, Henry had never been around something that glimmered and shone so wonderfully. Every Christmas the ladies would put up lights and decorations, and the kids would often help as well. Henry remembered watching James picking up the little ones so they could reach up higher on the tree to hang their messily painted ornaments or cut out colored paper on string. Henry was never fond of decorating, himself. It would always be taken down. Besides, if he put _his_ stuff up, the ladies would take it when they took down the decorations. So, each time he was given something to put on the tree, he’d squirrel it away. Then the ladies would find it, he’d be scolded, and the decorations given to the other kids. Eventually, they just stopped giving him things to take back to his bed.

Now, the mostly empty cafeteria was even emptier, and the bright lights on the tree glimmered, throwing multicolored lights over the wall and ceiling, and recently cleaned floor, unchallenged by the moon that now hung outside. The ornaments, ranging from bulbs to swirls to odd shapes, glinted or sparkled depending on their smooth or glittery surface. The tinsel was the largest perpetrator in hiding the green needles and rough branches of the tree. But high up at the top was a star with a little glowing top hat.

Henry admired a little white stag hanging from one of the branches, its white pelt glowing a faint green whilst its large rack had a reddish glow. Henry, sending an inconspicuous glance back to be sure no one actually saw him despite the cafeteria being empty, plucked the little stag from its place and turned it over in his hands. A bad feeling knotted up in his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t take the bobble; it didn’t belong to him. Moreover, it belonged to another Toppat Clan member. Or maybe it didn’t belong to anyone at all and was just a Christmas decoration that someone took from a storage unit. Still, he couldn’t help it. It was so pretty, and he loved the gorgeous little thing. Even the silver thread that looped over one of the twigs had a shimmer to it.

Suddenly feeling quite guilty, Henry slunk off, his newest prize--and a baby blue snowflake--clutched tight in his grasp.

It took him no time at all to slink past a couple of tired night watches and back to his room. Howie was already asleep. So, Henry lay in his bed, the white stag’s thread hanging from one finger and the snowflake from another. He watched as they slowly pirouetted above him, the dull semi-light slipping in from under the door did little to illuminate the objects. Outside of the multicolored lights, they felt a little plain. Still, Henry liked them, and that’s all that mattered, right?

* * * * *

“Henry,” said Reginald, catching Henry’s and Howie’s attention as they made their way to the cafeteria.

“ _Good morning!_ ” Henry signed and Howie yawned.

Reginald nodded to Howie. “Go on ahead, Howie. Henry, what did you take?”

Henry lost his smile in favorite of confusion. Howie blinked and looked between them. Rather than engage, however, he walked off, throwing a glance over his shoulder as he did so. “ _What?_ ” Henry looked between Reginald and Red, but Red was as stoic as ever and Reginald was not for one second amused by Henry’s charade.

“Last night, you took something,” Reginald said. “Now, hand it over.”

Henry, frantically pulling on every bit of knowledge and training Howie taught him, shrugged. “ _I was in my room all night._ ”

Reginald let out a small sigh. “I know that you are an excellent liar, but this is not the time nor place.”

Henry looked between them and then sighed and trudged back to his room. Reginald and Red followed. Henry, figuring he would get caught as Christmas ornaments were destined to stay out of his grasp, opened the chest at the foot of his bed. Silently thanking his nighttime self for not putting them in with the rest of his stash, Henry held up the stag and the snowflake. Their strings tangled as the two gently, slowly, rotated side-by-side.

Reginald took the objects from him. “Henry, what did we tell you about taking things that belong to the Clan?”

“ _Not to? I didn’t mean to! I promise!_ ” Henry was quick to add.

“So, you _accidentally_ went into the cafeteria in the middle of the night and took these off the tree?” Reginald prompted, holding up the pilfered objects.

 _Well, when phrased like that, it was a little ridiculous._ “ _Yes,_ ” Henry loosely signed, no longer looking Reginald in the eyes. “ _I thought they were nice, but I didn’t…_ ” He lowered his hands. Talking was just going to get him into more trouble.

Reginald looked to Red and then back at Henry. “And this is _all_ that you took. I’m not going to check under your bed and find anything else?”

Henry looked up. “ _What? No! No, that’s the only thing I took. I promise. I took the deer and the snowflake. But nothing else._ ” _Reginald wasn’t buying it, was he?_ Henry scrambled to think of something. “ _I can put those back. I remember where I took them off the tree._ ”

“If I give these back,” Reginald said. “--am I supposed to believe you would put them back and not hide them somewhere?”

Henry started to nod and then hesitated. “ _Well… I’ll try. But maybe I will. I mean I’ll put them back! Definitely. I won’t try to hide them somewhere. You can watch me if you want._ ”

“Okay.” Reginald held out the decorations for Henry to reluctantly take. “You may put those back on the tree. Henry, you aren’t to steal from the Clan.”

Henry nodded, clutching the decorations with tightness and care. “ _Okay_.” With that, they walked back to the cafeteria, Henry cursing himself every step of the way. He knew it was wrong to take from the tree! Why would he do that? Why? There was no valid reason for it!

Henry marched straight up to the tree and searched for the place where the stag had been. Well, he knew exactly where the deer went. But from where did he take the snowflake? Was it _that_ important? Well… okay, so the deer went there. Henry didn’t even remember taking the snowflake, but there was a little empty space a little bit away. And… there! Yep, the snowflake fit, successfully hiding an otherwise empty hole in the tree.

A little proud of his accomplishment, Henry speed-walked straight back to the table and hopped back into his space. “ _I forgot where the snowflake went, but I found it,_ ” Henry signed.

“So, they are back in their proper places?”

Henry nodded.

Before proper confusion could be voiced from the table, someone called, “Table One!”

Henry, still rather nervous despite righting his wrong, stuck close to Reginald’s side. Though he knew this would be fleeting; they would be doing other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, time to return some gifts!


	16. Gifted

After breakfast, Henry followed Reginald and Red to the tree, which already had presents beneath it.

Reginald asked, “Henry. When we caught you, you said you took those two ornaments. I am slightly surprised, considering the gifts beneath the tree were closer to you.”

“ _I didn’t want to take from anyone, or to steal,_ ” Henry stated simply. “ _But I really like the deer! It was so pretty. But I didn’t want to!”_

Reginald hummed. “I understand. Well, Henry, what were your customs?”

“ _We all had presents under the tree,_ ” Henry said. “ _Mrs. Blood-worth always kept me locked up on Christmas Eve. So, I had dinner and breakfast by myself. She didn’t want me taking anyone else’s presents. But I wouldn’t have! But she didn’t believe me. But at night, everyone got together to open their gifts._ ”

“Well!” Reginald huffed, wearing a similar expression to the one he had when Henry wasn’t using his manners. “A cruel woman indeed.” He glanced at Red, who gave him a flat look. Though, whether he was agreeing or disagreeing with Reginald, Henry couldn’t quite tell. But Reginald was right, she was a bad lady. So, Red had to agree.

Reginald gestured to the tree and Henry stuck his head under the branches. Wow! What a nice little hiding spot! Man, if he’d known about this earlier. Tucking away this information for future use, Henry found a box with his name on it and dragged it out. He stood up and turned around. “ _Hello, Howie!_ ”

“Howdy!” Howie greeted, his hands in his pockets and a present under his arm as he strolled up to them. “Good mornin’. Ya left this in our room, li’l buddy.”

Henry took it and looked around. People were in clusters ranging from two to five, for the most part. The Witch, Katie, Matilda, and Harold sat together on the floor, The Witch holding Katie in her lap and Matilda cooing over her. Katie held out a gift for her. Wallace, Bill, Hambag, Ten Pence, and Earrings sat at one of the tables together. Wallace snickered and punched Bill in the shoulder, eliciting a few laughs from the rest of them.

Regardless, Henry got to fetch the gifts with their names on it and sit a few feet away from the tree in their own cluster. It was here Mr. Rich joined them. Henry picked up the gift on top of the small pile they made and held it out to Howie.

Howie ruffled Henry’s hair, causing him to duck and stick his tongue out at him. Within the simply wrapped box--which, because of Matilda’s help, was actually well wrapped--was a plush horse. The little horse was brown in the front with brown legs and spots over its white hindquarters and a black tail and back hooves. “ _I didn’t know what Apple-blouse looked like, but you like the color brown._ ”

Howie lifted the horse up a bit more to look over it. “Aw, now look at that,” he whispered, a wistful look befalling him and his accent somehow a little thicker. “Ah’ll admit, it’s been so long Ah maself don’t remember her real well. But this pattern’s real pretty. Ya ’member ma ramblin’s?”

Henry nodded, grinning. “ _You were really happy talking about her, and it seemed like you missed her. I thought a little toy one would be nice._ ”

Howie chuckled and brought her down again. “Li’l buddy, she’s perfect.” He bowed his head a little to hide under his hat. Henry bumped into him but didn’t say anything as Howie continued to look over her, running his fingers over her fluffy mane and felt body. Howie cleared his throat. “Why doncha open yer present, Henry?” He nudged the one on the top.

Henry hummed and opened his own box. He gasped and cooed, lifting up the object within by a silver loop. At the end of a thin string was a spider the size of his face from the tip of its back feet to its front feet stretched far before it. Its little body was black and shiny as an onyx while its giant abdomen was a wash of marbled cool colors that shone like antifreeze on water. It’s long legs, four of which held onto the string and four reached before it, were colorful as well. The joints looked like they were made of gems while the long, thin legs themselves were smoky and translucent, striped by yellow in the forearm and foreleg and then orange and red in the second piece. It’s pinchers and feet were golden. Henry looped the string of the weighted object in his hand, letting the thing slowly spin so he could see its underside etched with details, watching as the light danced magnificently off its smooth body.

Reginald said, “Howie said you had a bejeweled brush you liked to keep with you. As your room had no decoration, he thought that perhaps you would like something to hang on your wall, if you wished. It’s your decision what to do with it, of course.”

Henry managed to tear his eyes away from the spider and looked back at Reginald. He set the weighted thing on his lap. “ _Decorate my room?_ ”

Reginald hummed. “Yes!” He hesitated. “Have you ever been able to do that?”

Henry shook his head. “ _I lived with the other boys. And if I tried putting something up, they might want to take it or break it or something. Or the ladies would take it or something._ ” Henry narrowed his eyes in thought. “ _They never took any of the other boys’ decorations, but their decorations were stupid. Like posters._ ”

Howie offered, “Ah’d never take a thing a’ yours, Henry. Ah just thought ya didn’t like hangin’ stuff up, ta be honest.”

Henry looked back at his spider. “ _I know you wouldn’t do that. You’re really nice._ ” He thought for a moment and set the spider in his other hand. “ _Okay. But I don’t know how to hang up stuff._ ”

Reginald hummed. “We’ll help you, Henry. After this we can go back to your room and hang this up.”

Henry asked, “ _What about my practice poster? Can I hang that up, too?_ ”

Howie looked between them. “Oh! Now this’ll be exciting! It’ll look like Ah have a roommate, now, huh?”

Henry liked Howie as a roommate. He was pretty nice and fun, and he was respectful of Henry even though Henry was younger. So, when they went back to his room, Henry came to realize how barren it was. In fact, were it not for the extra pillow on his bed--he’d gotten one and put the blue pillowcase on it--it really didn’t look like Henry lived there. Well, that was changed. The spider got to sit right above the top of the bed at such an angle where it would catch the bathroom light when the door was partially open. They used little things that looked like tacks but were sticky instead of sharp. His first target poster riddled with holes was at the other side of the room. Henry didn’t have much to put up on his walls, so they were done fairly quickly. Howie promised to play a few games with Henry and so Reginald and Red went to join their fellow clan mates.

Henry had spent so much time with Howie, he nearly forgot he hadn’t visited Afanasiy that day. So, when Howie split off to sneak out and meet his friends--with a promise from Henry that he wouldn’t tell anyone--Henry made his way back to the Brig. Once the door shut behind him, he said, “Merry Christmas, Afanasiy! Did anyone bring you dinner already?”

“Merry Christmas, Гудчайлд,” Afanasiy hummed. Something shuffled inside the cell, probably the man sitting down on the floor rather than his bed. “Yes, someone did. It’s nice to meet you today.”

“Nice to meet you, too!” Henry grinned and sat cross-legged in front of the door. Not for the first time, Henry wished he could see the man. “How are you doing today? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Гудчайлд,” Afanasiy answered, though his mournful tone contradicted that statement.

“What’s wrong?”

He heard a deep sigh. “I miss my family, little one. My son, my wife, my parents and siblings and nieces and nephews. I did not spend very much time with my family outside of my wife and son. I see how much of a mistake that was, now. You spend plenty of time with your family, Гудчайлд?”

“Yes,” said Henry, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Afanasiy. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You being here has helped me quite a bit, Гудчайлд. Do not worry over me.”

Henry frowned but nodded. “Okay.”

“Now, what is the gift you gave me?” asked Afanasiy.

Henry perked up. “You still have it? You haven’t opened it?”

“I waited for you, Гудчайлд. I do not have one to give to you. I apologize.”

“No, it’s okay,” Henry reassured him. “I know you… don’t really have anything right now. But that’s okay!”

Afanasiy chuckled. “You are so kind. You remind me of my own son, my little Ryan. Now, what is this?”

There was the gently tearing of paper and then the scrap of cardboard upon cardboard. “…would you look at this. A tablet.”

“It has a ton of books on it,” Henry said. “You said you liked cookbooks and romance novels and stuff, so I looked for as many as I could, and I got them for you.”

There was a long pause on the other side of the door. In fact, a feeling of nervousness started to twist his gut. Was it a bad present? Did Afanasiy not actually like those things? Finally, the man croaked. “You are too kind, Гудчайлд. This was more than I could have ever expected. Your parents are very lucky to have had…” There was another pause, though this one was only long enough to take a breath. “--very lucky to have you.”

Henry grinned. “I’m glad you like it! I’m sorry I can’t bring you to your own family or let you outside, but I hope this makes you feel better. Merry Christmas! D-do you still want to talk about stuff?”

The man chuckled. “Merry Christmas, Гудчайлд. Yes, I would like to talk. What gifts did your parents give you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is different all over the world.


	17. Escape

Afanasiy looked over his paper, scanning the page for the hundredth time. It was the third Wednesday of the month; January 16th, 1997. Pinkman took the third Wednesday this month. He was young and training under someone important, but also enjoyed his peace and quiet. _Good_. Nothing about being too much of a veteran fighter. Unfortunately, the months he’d spent in here had taken a toll on his strength and he simply wouldn’t have the muscle to fight someone with muscle or scrappiness of their own.

Afanasiy stood against the wall as hard as he could, body as flat to the corner as he could make himself. He tossed his paper, so it landed on the ground within sight of the window. Though he’d been practicing, only having one eye was an impediment. One of the necklaces Henry gave him gleamed in the light.

The door to the Brig opened. A tray of food appeared at the foot of the door. At this angle he couldn’t see anything in the window. Good. A moment of silence followed the food. “Hey? What the--what’s that? Henry?” The door opened. The man walked inside, his bright pink hat a nice contrast to the deep maroon walls. The man hadn’t taken two steps into the trap before Afanasiy had him. Pinkman’s first reaction to being grabbed around the throat with a hand over his mouth and nose was to elbow Afanasiy in the ribs with one arm and reach for his gun with the other hand. Afanasiy kicked the man’s legs out from under him and, as the Toppat was now struggling both to breathe and regain his balance, slammed him into the bed, a knee on the small of his back and one hand on the nape of his neck. The grip Afanasiy had on his throat and lack of air in the bed eventually ceased his struggles. Afanasiy grabbed the man’s gun and searched him.

Pinkman didn’t move.

He laughed, the noise strangled by his recent exertion and the tingling in his nerves. Calm down, Afanasiy. You’re not done, yet. He tipped the man’s head. Still breathing. He considered outright killing him but waved off the thought. He could imagine the look on the man’s face when he woke up in Afanasiy’s cell. Oh, or to wake up at the _Wall!_ Now wouldn’t that be the greatest dose of irony…?

Oh, but, no. Afanasiy had different plans.

He went to quick work tying the man’s wrists and ankles and tossed a blanket over the unconscious man, nudging him so that he was completely on the bed in a slightly more natural position. When his blurry eyes started to open, Afanasiy gagged him. It wasn’t a disguise as much as… well, he didn’t want to trip over the man. Besides, he didn’t want to scare the boy _too_ soon if he glanced inside. He had plans, and they would be for naught if the boy ran away.

Afanasiy located the lock on the door and stuck the brim of Pinkman’s bubblegum pink hat between the door and door jam. When the door shut, the lock failed to go through. He grinned and sat down for his dinner. When Pinkman noisily tried escaping his bonds, Afanasiy hit him over the head with a “Make more noise and I’ll snap your neck.” before going back to eating.

Eventually, the Brig door opened. There was a short shuffle and a “Hey.”

“Hello, Henry!” Afanasiy hummed. “Do you remember when I told you I had a surprise?”

“Mhm!”

“Well, I was thinking you would really like to meet my son. Ryan. What do you think?”

There was a quiet noise from the other side. “But you can’t leave.”

“Sure, I can,” said Afanasiy cheerily. “Look, I don’t want to get you in trouble. So, if we leave now, we’ll be able to come back right before it’s time for breakfast. What do you think about that?”

Henry thought for a moment. “But I thought you were locked in there.”

“Henry, I am prison guard,” Afanasiy pointed out. “I can leave prison cell if I want. But I didn’t want to leave until you thought it was okay. Do you think it’s okay?”

“Well… will you come back before breakfast?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

Afanasiy opened the door, casually slipping the hat out and tossing it onto the bed before Henry could see it. He shut the door quickly behind himself. Henry gasped and took a few steps back. _Careful now, Afanasiy. You could lose more than your freedom here._ “Hey, hey, hush,” Afanasiy whispered and got down to one knee. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

Henry shuffled his feet and glanced at the door of the Brig and then to Afanasiy. There was plenty of room for the kid to run if he wanted to do so.

“Do you want to come with me, now? The sooner we leave, the sooner we get back. And the sooner we get to see my son.”

Henry hesitantly nodded. He didn’t leave his tight stance, and he flinched away from Afanasiy when the man attempted to take his hand, but he didn’t flee. Afanasiy got up and left. “Do you know how to work those pods?”

Henry nodded.

“Good, good. Now… here. This is one, right? Okay, good.” He pressed a button and slipped inside. Henry started to follow but stopped. He signed something Afanasiy couldn’t understand and then pointed back. “Do you want me to follow…?”

Henry shook his head, pointed to the pod, and held up his hand in a “stop” sign. He ran off. Afanasiy winced and stepped into the pod. Well, even if the little kid managed to find his parents and bring them back, he was in the pod and could at least escape. So, Afanasiy waited and listened. Eventually, one pair of footsteps came back. Henry, with shoes on and a thin jacket, walked into the pod. Henry started messing with a few buttons on a panel. The panel glowed and the door shut. He looked up at Afanasiy and signed something he couldn’t understand. Afanasiy asked, “Do I put my home here?”

Henry nodded.

Afanasiy typed in the coordinates for The Wall--more specifically, a lonely place in the shadow of the Complex they’d take their liberated children. It was always a pain initiating a new child into their new lives, and they weren’t often quiet with their protests. He doubted Henry would be the quiet type. So, away from everyone else they went. Henry sat and strapped himself down on his own seat. Afanasiy followed, watching the deep purples and blues of the evening through the window.

* * * * *

Henry watched Afanasiy. He stared out the window into the deep evening sky. A few stars already poked through the deep blues. He signed, “ _How far away is your home?_ ”

Afanasiy didn’t look at him.

Henry patted the man’s knee to regain his attention and repeated the sign.

“I do not understand.”

Henry pouted.

“Why don’t you talk to me? You talked to me before, yes?”

Henry hunched his shoulders and looked away. It wasn’t that simple. Why did people try to make it _simple?_ He couldn’t talk, that was that. Well, he could talk to Red, but Red wasn’t scary. Reginald was nice and Henry trusted him. But Henry could barely say a few words. Even though he trusted Charles and he really liked him, he barely forced himself to say _two words_. Even James learned sign language and taught it to him because Henry couldn’t talk to him. James was better than any angel. So, no, he couldn’t talk.

“You know words,” Afanasiy pointed out. “You _can_ say them. It’s okay, Henry. I’m not trying to make you do anything. I won’t hurt you. You don’t _have_ to be stubborn.”

He wasn’t being _stubborn._

“My boy can’t understand sign language. He has a hard time with English. So does my wife,” he explained. “If you want to meet them, you’ll have to talk to them.”

Henry looked up at him. He _wanted_ to meet Afanasiy’s family, though! They sounded so nice and Afanasiy was so happy about it. But…

The boy opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out. He shook his head and retreated into himself. Stress just made his fluttering heart go faster and numb his brain so he couldn’t think of anything to say or sign, anyway.

“You must realize that not even the Toppat Clan will be able to understand you all of the time,” Afanasiy pointed out. “Plenty of people there can’t understand you. Do you want to make them feel excluded?”

Henry shook his head.

“Well, if you can’t tell them that, then that will happen.”

Henry shook his head again. No. The Toppats he met were nice, and even if they couldn’t understand him technically, Henry found other ways of communicating. Miming was a cruder form he used as a last resort, but body language was his best tool as well as context clues. But Henry could get the message across, as long as they were willing to listen. If they weren’t, then they wouldn’t listen to what he had to say, anyway, so it was a waste of time.

“Henry, kid. I know you can talk,” said Afanasiy. “It is not hard. You need to learn to _talk_ or _do something_ when asked or told.”

Henry shook his head again and coiled his arms around himself, looking squarely at his lap, now. He squeaked upon feeling Afanasy’s hand on his shoulder and scooted back as far as he could which, in the pod, wasn’t very far. He couldn’t move. He was trapped. Oh, no. No, no, no, he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t _do it!_

Henry jumped up, lunging for the button panel near the door. Afanasiy grabbed him and put him back down. “Hey!” the man barked. “Stop!”

Henry froze, breath caught in his throat, releasing Afanasiy’s arms from his grasp.

The large hands holding him back eventually relaxed and his grip opened. Henry sat down, stiff with his hands intertwined so tight and hard he could feel his fingers getting ready to break. “Now, Henry,” Afanasiy stated. “Stay. I control where this goes.”

…

“And you are not going to my home specifically,” Afanasiy said. “You are good and talented young boy. So, you will go with the others to your new home in The Wall.”

…what?

“You will not be going back to the Toppat Clan,” he went on. “They will lead you to life of crime and you will hurt many people until you are finally caught. Here, you will work to protect the people by keeping evil people away. The Wall is one of the most secure prisons in world, what better place to learn how to keep villain behind bars than there?”

Henry shook his head.

“Henry, were I to _leave_ you there, you would have grown up with them and gotten arrested same as they will be. In fact, you were already hurt! Why choose to be with same people who would shoot _you?_ ”

Henry looked up and shook his head again. _That wasn’t true, Chief Terrence wouldn’t hurt him._

“My friend may have miscalculated,” he conceded. “Or he could have fled, and your leader did not look before he shot. What is important is that you will not go back.”

Henry shook his head with a hard huff.

Afanasiy raised an eyebrow at him. “You expect Toppat Clan to care enough to get you? Henry, they would never approach The Wall, not even to save you.”

Henry signed, “ _That’s not true!_ ”

Afanasiy countered, “There are Toppat prisoners in the Wall. None of them were _rescued_.”

Well, The Wall was really hard to escape from! And it was really dangerous to help an escape. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t help Henry. They’d look for him, right? Especially since… well… since… they had to. They just, they had to!

The pod slowed.

Eventually, the trees and rocks and snow outside stopped moving. Although snowflakes whisked past the window, the world had stilled. Afanasiy caught the lack of movement from the outside and their pod. He unbuckled himself and Henry and stood up. Then, holding onto the back of Henry’s jacket, he opened the door. Henry shivered at the intense cold that rushed in to steal the heat of their pod. The wind crashed into his small body and, despite his jacket, bit deep into his flesh.

Outside, a couple of other Wall guards acknowledged Afanasiy’s presence. Henry, still being “guided” by the former prisoner, tried not to meet their gaze. A thin snowy path edged on one side by jutting stone and the other by a sheer cliff, led them to a door in a squat cement building. If Henry passed through that door, he was never coming out. That was just a fact of life. His feet sank inches deep into the snow, the sky was dark, and that door was the end of the line. A few snowmobiles clustered at the mouth of the trail, which widened and led into a forest.

Henry sent a glance up at Afanasiy, who kept his attention between him and the building. “Henry, do not worry,” Afanasiy said. “You will be much happier here in long run.”

 _No, he wasn’t_. He couldn’t go through that door. No matter what, he _couldn’t go through that door_. But he couldn’t just say no, he couldn’t ask to go through somewhere else. Delaying them wasn’t going to do anything if his parents didn’t even know he was gone, much less where he was. They would come to rescue him, definitely, but only after they learned where he went. But inside The Wall? They’d never find him.

Henry looked around his surroundings. The trail was a little thin here. Afanasiy had him by the back of his jacket, not his shirt or skin or hair. _Perfect._

“A life of crime may feel fulfilling, but in the end, it is not. What will all those stolen goods do for you in end? Henry, you help _no one_ stealing from the people, not even your friends or family. Thieves are all the same, they will attack each other over the slightest hope of selfish gain. But you are smart and kind boy, you don’t--” Afanasiy cut himself off as Henry ducked out of his own jacket and sprinted in the opposite direction. “HENRY! Guards!”

Henry didn’t look back. Instead, he ran and jumped as fast as he could. The heavy snow was certainly an obstacle trying to pull him down, but he plowed through it as best he could. Unfortunately, the adults didn’t have the same problem as him. He hadn’t gotten to the tree line before they’d caught up with him.

Henry stopped as one got near and then grabbed onto the back of his coat as he passed. The man spun around to grab him, only to stop upon seeing his own pistol pointed up at his face. Henry, holding the deceivingly heavy weapon in one hand and holding onto the man’s coat with his other, looked up at him and then the approaching guards. Afanasiy and the other one stopped. Afanasiy called, “Henry, calm down. Do not shoot him.”

Henry glared at him.

“You could seriously hurt that man. Stay quiet, you. Henry, you do not want to do that.”

Henry tugged a little at the guard’s coat and moved back a step or two.

“Okay. Let go of him and we’ll let you walk away,” Afanasiy reasoned. “You can go, we will even let you keep your weapon.”

Henry shot a mistrustful glare at him and then the one he was holding hostage.

“We want to keep our friend alive,” Afanasiy answered the unasked question. “You will not get far trying to bring him with you, right? Let go of him, and we’ll let you leave.”

_Well, what else had Henry been expecting, right?_

Henry let go of the one whose gun he’d stolen and took a few steps back, gun still pointed up at him. After a moment’s pause, Henry took another few steps back and then hopped onto a motorized bike near the snowmobiles--the only vehicle small enough for him, and even that was big--and bolted down the forest trail. He didn’t hear any footsteps breaking the snow behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins.
> 
> I thought having this in Afanasiy's POV would be a cool change, especially because this version of Henry would definitely _not_ just open his jail cell. Also, this was going to be Sven Svensson and Afanasiy would comment on Burt Curtis being third _Thursdays_ , but due to age I took it out. Originally, I planned on Sven and Burt being somewhere around Howie's age, but then I thought back on it and decided to make them ~Henry's age. 10-13 mark. Even if I kept them about 15-17, that's still too young to be put on Brig Duty. And I wouldn't have him fight a kid like that. You don't hurt kids, even criminal ones! No, you _save_ them.
> 
> I'm really excited for the next few chapters, don't mind me.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will be posted every Monday/Wednesday/Friday at 12:00 PM CST or 6:00 PM GMT
> 
> Also, I did take the poles from DPDS and utilize them here in OtBP. :3


End file.
